#and hes like a fumbling jedi like

[eorzeashan]

Lord Krovos: if you would give the speech, Commander

Eight: (stares at podium)

Eight: (clearly annoyed)

Lord Krovos: (motioning to get on with it)

Eight: ahem. loyal citizens of the Empire...

Eight: ...WE NEED LORD JADUS MORE THAN EVER-

Eight: is dragged off the podium and bustled backstage HELP! HELP! I'M BEING OPPRESSED!

[ct-hardcase]

feeling things about Windu clearly not hating Anakin and even having easy banter with him but still acting the part of a mentor to him and Ahsoka even if it’s somewhat clumsy

[fhrlclln]

hiiii can i request a fluffy and smutty fic with greasy qimir :> sometimes i prefer his dorky side before he revealed himself. something like friends to lovers, drunk confessions with the reader, or any storyline you like!

wasted confessions | qimir

SUMMARY -> you have been close friends with qimir, your fellow co-worker, for as long as you can remember when you worked under the mysterious force-user as a confidante. though harboring in yourself that you may view him as something more, his share of secrets unravel one night when he's had too much to drink with you.

qimir x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, oral (f!receiving), hair pulling, kinda sub! qimir

WC -> 5.2k

a/n: blowing o’s while cooking with this delicious fic. sorry for the delay lol! hope this satisfies you, anonz!! I ALSO LOVE THE DORKY QIMIR 🥹🥹🥹

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

"qimir."

you knock on the starship's front door, getting impatient by the minute when there's no response. you tap your foot, waiting for a moment incase he finally wakes up. you sigh, knocking again, even louder as you can manage.

he always seems to do this on important missions.

"qimir!" you yell out again as you rolled your eyes. the people around the docking bay stare at you, wondering why you were insistent in waking up the owner of the ship when it is literally pass sleeping hours. knocking for several times again, you grumble, heading towards the cockpit as you stare up, knowing he was in there, sleeping soundly as ever. your eyes roam around the bottom of the ship for a moment and you pick something up, some rubbish or what, and chuck it at the cockpit's window. it makes a loud thud before it falls on the floor again.

a tiny yelp and shuffling inside the cockpit makes you sigh in relief.

the main door of the starship opens swiftly and low and behold is your sleepy companion greeting you with a smile and messy hair. his shirt is all wrinkled up and by the looks of his pants, it seemed he had put them on the last minute. your nostrils flare, no matter how charming he tries to be, he was getting on your nerves.

“h-hey! you’re early!”

“get dressed!” you push him inside his ship hastily and he yelps at your sudden touch as you push the button to shut the door. your nose catches a strong scent of alcohol on him and you grimace as you whined at qimir.

“mother of kriff, qimir, did you drank a whole cantina?” you shove him inside to the lounging area of the ship. he sits down as he watches you go in the hallway leading to his room.

“i needed a drink- or three. hey, i’m sorry, mae was out and you were out. i had nothing to do!” he voices his reason as you came out with fresh semi-clean clothes in your hands as you toss it towards him. he fumbles, quickly catching his clothes.

“get dressed. quickly. i hope you remembered why we’re here.” you fold your arms, eyeing him with a scolding and stern look on your face. you did not want this whole plan of his to be in ruins after you had strategically been eyeing the local apothecary near the jedi temple to be the look out spot for the big boss’s acolyte’s mission.

“local apothecary. blend in. yes, i remember.” he stands up as you glared at him. “because that was my idea. so yeah, i do remember. i always remember my plans, sunshine.”

you scoffed and he pats your shoulder before he heads in the bathroom. you were not really that annoyed with him, this dynamic between you two has been going on for as long as you can remember when you had been working for the masked stranger. you had met him when you were tasked on a job to steal… certain jedi stuff and qimir was your companion that day. he was, for the most part, kind of a big mouth asking you how you came to be working for the stranger and so-on and so-forth.

you grew to like him as a friend… or you think so. he has his charms, awkward and clumsy he may be, but he’s a good friend in all the trouble you are in working under what you can say is a man that’s clearly not a jedi and wields a red fucking saber. but he pays good and you couldn’t argue with that and for the most part, you owe him for saving your ass when you were still a smuggler back then. just that, you kinda wished he’d be more human than a creepy masked stranger when tells the jobs for you in-person.

“i don’t get why you are in a hurry. we got this.” qimir looks at you as you two walked in the dimmed markets of olega.

“i’m not. i just don’t want to blow this whole thing up.” you answered. the bustling noises of people and vendors filling in your hearing.

“it’s not like we’re gonna fail this. it’s me and you helping mae! we do great together.” he bumps his elbow to you gently, trying to cheer you up. you snort, nodding.

“i know. it’s not mae i’m worried if we fail.” you shrugged. qimir’s face frowns at that, knowing who you are pointing out.

“he’s not like that…” he gently says as you two passed by the jedi temple, the apothecary is near.

“you always defend him.” you snort. “i know mae’s master isn’t that crazy… but who knows? maybe if i fuck up one thing and blow his whole cover he’d stab me with his lightsaber-thingy.”

qimir goes quiet at that. something on his face tells you that he seems upset.

“you okay?” you asked him, concerned, raising a brow.

“i’m g-good! but hey, don’t worry too much. he knows your loyalty, he sees it and i see it! i would be very much be grateful in his place for all the hardworking stuff you do for him and mae.” he explains and you smiled at his optimism. he was always like this when you ranted out your worries for mae’s master, as if he knew him so well. but he merely says he owes him that’s why. you don’t press anything further, guessing it might be more than that and he isn’t willing to tell it to you yet.

“here it is.” you two stand in-front of the apothecary and you can see inside the old man who runs it. ready to close his shop for the night.

“right behind you.” qimir smiles as you walk in with him following behind your back, ready to quietly let his plan flourish.

・゜゜・．

“wear this.” qimir urges you, handing you a very large set of tunics and robes in his hand. you grimaced, not even liking the color and it surely wouldn’t even suit you.

“why me? i thought you were the one going to blend in.” you huff and he grins.

“nuh-uh, we’re in this together so you have to blend in as well.” he says as you took the robes. “it’s comfy, don’t you worry, sunshine.”

you eye him up, looking at his own robes he borrowed from the apothecary’s shopkeeper. it certainly made him even look more… what can you say? dorky? cute? you think and it makes you laugh.

“you’re laughing at me. again.” he pouts and you ignored him, heading at the back of the shop to change. “it’s rude to laugh at me for no reason!”

the robes were definitely too big on you but you managed to at least give it an appealing look of how you wear it but it certainly was comfy. you head back to the counter and you see qimir fiddling with the shelves, sniffing a bottle he has in his hand and it makes him welch. you shake your head, amused as you lean forward on the counter.

“what do you think mae will try next to kill this jedi master?” you asked, grabbing some merchandise on the counter to examine it while qimir hums at your question about mae’s mission to kill master torbin.

“i don’t know.” he merely shrugs and grabs a flask as he smells it and his face lights up in his find.

“i’d be bummed out trying to kill a jedi without a weapon, that was what she said, right?” qimir nods and you hum thoughtfully.

“mae’s gonna eventually find a way to do that. it's part of her lesson.” qimir says as he drinks from the flask. “if she fails with this one, there’s the wookie next.”

“ugh.” you grimaced. “i feel bad for her. a wookie jedi.”

he chuckles and rounds towards you behind the counter. “i think it’s a challenge for mae. i haven’t seen anyone fought a wookie yet and let alone a jedi one at that. i am curious to see how that goes.”

“trust me, you don’t want to see that.” you mumbled, cringing back when a particular memory from before crosses your mind.

“can’t she like- you know, use the force.” you blabbered. “like choke a person. that’s a thing in the jedi, right?” you gestured your hand as if you were holding someone in a chokehold. qimir looks at you amusingly and something is written across his face with that suggestion of yours.

“that’s not a jedi thing.” he shakes his head at you with a small laugh and you shrugged, liking his laughter that rings through your ears.

"i'd make it my thing then if i had the force." you regarded. "besides, it's worth the try if i were mae."

"i'm pretty sure you would." qimir says as he took a sip from his small flask. you eye him, wanting to tease him a little as you snatched his flask after he took a swig.

"hey!

you took a sniff of it and grimaced at the strong smell of the contents. it certainly was... alcoholic.

"ugh. what is this?" your nose scrunched in disgust but before you could take a sip of courage, qimir snatches it back quickly.

“no drinking on the job.” he teases and you rolled your eyes.

“hypocrite.” you poke the side of his waist making him yelp at the sudden touch and you giggled at his reaction. “says the one who always drinks on the job.”

“this isn’t a real drink so i wouldn’t even consider that i am drinking on the job right now.” he downs the remaining liquid in the flask and sets it down on the counter with a relaxed sigh.

“but speaking of drinks. i do need a real drink, i managed to snatch a bottle of the local rum on our way here.” he bends down to grab something underneath the counter. you eye him curiously, seeing him so excited. he stands up again and smiles devilishly as he holds the bottle in front of you.

“do you wanna drink while we wait for mae?”

usually, you would decline his offer but now you can’t help yourself, deciding maybe one drink would help ease you down for a bit. meaning…

one drink and two more…

but here now are the two of you, sitting on the floor behind the counter. the shop is closed and the only thing that fills in the darkness of the place is the dim light by the counter. the bottle of rum is half-empty and qimir is giggling loudly at one of your absurd stories which, in-fact, weren’t really that funny but you two giggle at it anyway of how you tell it. you hadn’t realize how late it was but that didn’t even matter as qimir tipsily babbles at you.

“listen, listennnnn-“ he tipsily holds his finger up to you as you giggled at the way he was acting now. both of your systems jacked up with alcohol.

“what?” you couldn’t stop giggling as he giggles as well.

“i- i just can’t understand why mae can’t figure out how to do her mission!” he says as he sighs, blowing a raspberry before picking up the bottle of rum and putting it on his mouth. he takes a big sip and you watch his adam’s apple bob at each gulp he took. your entire body feels fuzzy and you aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol taking that effect or the unsaid feelings that’s threatening to spill out in you. you blink, mesmerized by the sheen of sweat on his honey pale skin as qimir finishes his drink then looks straight at you. everything feels in slow motion, and you can feel yourself get lost in the warm sensation of the moment and in his dark brown eyes.

“i mean… you said it! use the force! how can’t she see that?” he hiccups and you nod along, not fully registering his words. “and i’m kinda pissed how she takes me for granted! i- we have been helping her for as long as we can… a little thank you or something would be nice.”

“yeah… a thank you would be nice as well from the master.” you said, nodding dumbly as you grab the bottle from his hand and took a large sip.

“i’m sure he’s thankful for you- us.” he hiccups again and you shake your head at that.

“i doubt. i work for him so i guess gratitude wouldn’t really need to be there.” you say and took a sip.

“hey…” qimir pats your thigh and you look at him. “he can be a little… cryptic but i know he appreciates the work you do for him.”

“and how do you knowww?” you stretch out the last syllables sarcastically. qimir smiles and scoots closer to you, his arm is squished against yours and the tingly feeling inside you doesn’t hinder. he stares at you for a moment, looking into your eyes before it flickers down to your lips.

“because…” he begins, eyes flickering back to yours. “you’re tough, strong, hardworking… kind and most of all, loyal.” he nips his lower lip momentarily and your gaze is stuck to that as he continues. you feel warm and qimir feels even warmer beside you.

“he’d be an idiot not to see all that.” he smirks and you giggle. something else is behind those words than what he truly says.

“shhh, he might hear you.” you giggle again and qimir just grins at you.

“bahh, don’t care.” he says. “you’re an amazing woman so don’t underestimate yourself.”

you smile at him at that, your chest fluttering and your head is pounding at the sudden rush of blood. qimir looks at you, eyes heavy and his cheeks painted red.

“you’re cute trying to reassure me.” you roll your eyes at him, feeling a little shy now despite being tipsy.

“i think that’s the first compliment you have ever given me!” he laughs and you smile. “i’m honored.”

“well, sorry, you should fix your greasy hair sometimes and maybe i’ll compliment you even more.” you teasingly say then brushed the bangs covering his face to tuck it behind his ear. you hadn’t realized you had done that until a tense silence comes between you two. qimir stares at you, as if he was in a trance as his eyes flicker down to your lips again. you watch him, his face was close to yours, noses almost touching and you feel his hot breath brush against your skin.

there’s something written across his face. you weren’t sure really or that you are completely ignoring the truth in front of you. yes, you do like him… you really do like qimir but you always held back on those lingering feelings knowing that it would be a bad idea to act on it due to both of your obligations to the master and your friendship. distractions are dangerous… but maybe this one, you think, would be worth it if you try.

a kiss wouldn’t hurt your friendship, right?

“qimir?” you breathily call out his name.

“yeah?” he asks, his voice a little shaky but lower now. you blink, looking down to his lips then back to his eyes. the alcohol in your veins certainly making you courageous now as you ask him softly…

“can you kiss me?”

maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was something more. your mind has a hundred questions but you don’t care for them right now as qimir’s lips lock with yours with such intensity. his mouth was on yours seconds after you asked him that and you were slightly taken aback how desperate he is. you grip his shoulders as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer for more. you’re almost on top of him as you tangled your fingers in his black locks. your heart is beating loudly and the fire down your core is burning wildly as qimir breathily sighs between your kisses.

everything feels soft, hot and heavy.

years of imagining what his lips would taste like didn’t disappoint you. he was like a roaring flame underneath you, the more you reciprocated, the more he showed this side that burns through your skin. you want more- so much more but…

you stop.

you break away from him the moment you two needed air. your lips are centimeters from his, both of your mouths are glistening underneath the dim light and his eyes are darker the way he looks at you. the sound of heavy breathing fills in the air and you ponder for a moment, your rational brain starting to tell you that this was wrong. both of you are pumped with alcohol in your veins and maybe this kiss was just in the heat of the moment. you stay silent, waiting for qimir to break away and reject you.

“i dreamed of this. your lips…” he whispers, lips brushing gently against yours. your heart pounds wildly from his words but you still can’t believe it. were you dreaming? it seemed like his own share of secrets and yours are finally laid down at last.

“we’re drunk… are y-you sure-“

“i’m perfectly sure.” he strongly says, as if the giggling qimir had vanished and this baffles you.

“since when?” you ask shyly.

“since the start.” he confesses and you feel alive.

“me too.” you confessed as well and this makes his heart soar as well.

and your mind didn’t question anything further when you leaned again to capture his mouth on yours. now here you are, things got heated quickly as you were on your back with him above you, in between your legs as you breathily moan his name out when he kisses your neck softly.

his hand gently caresses the side of your waist to where your skin is peeking out from the ill-fitted robes you wear. your hands are in his hair again and you shuddered when the tips of his fingers went up higher. he nips the soft flesh of your neck, littering you with then with kisses as he sucks on a sensitive spot making you whimper. your hands then roamed back to his shoulders, feeling underneath the tension of his muscles even though his wool tunic was concealing much to your eyes. your hands then travel down to his chest, then downwards to the hem of his tunic. you tug up but he stops for a moment with his other hand. qimir’s head shoots up to meet your questioning gaze.

“n-not here.” he breathily says and you eye at the small alcove behind him. your eyes shimmer with want and he sits up, pulling you along as well to get there. you kiss him when both of you are standing, he slowly steps back where you guide him to the small couch in the alcove. you messily kiss him with such need in which he reciprocates with such desperation, your hands move to get him out of his tunic while he did the same to you. his hands fumble with your robes and you managed to pry off the string holding his tunic and your hands are rewarded with the feel of his hot skin beneath your palm.

you break the kiss with a curious look in your eyes when you look down to see his muscled chest and clearly toned abdomen. what else was he hiding from you underneath his ugly clothes? you think and qimir smirks at your dazed face. he makes use of your distraction to turn you around and push you gently to the couch. you make a noise of surprise and your top is off in seconds, making you shiver at the cold air. he towers over you and latches his mouth to your neck again then trailing down to your bared breasts.

“qimir…” you mewl and he latches his mouth on one of your nipples and sucks. you gasp at the feeling of his sinful mouth as his other hand grope the neglected breast. your mind is clouded with want and need when he continues his ministrations, alternating between your breasts. satisfied with your reaction to his touch, he pops his lips out when he detaches from your breast and focuses down to your clothed bottoms. he removes his opened tunic first, granting you a full view of his muscled body making your thighs clench and your core dripping with need.

he’s fit. like really fit and you wonder where the hell did the hunched back and dorky qimir was.

he hooks his fingers on your bottoms and gently removes it and tosses it aside like his tunic. it leaves you bare but with your panties on concealing the prize he seems to now focus on.

“you’re so beautiful.” he almost whines at the sight of you almost naked. your cheeks flushed hot and qimir then touches the hem of your panties as he looks at you with dark glinting eyes. “can i?”

you nod, liking how airy is tone is, how you can feel he’s feeling the same want and need like you. you watch him pull your panties down to your thighs then to your ankles then tossing it back his shoulder. you feel shy now, bare underneath him. you close your thighs instantly and he smiles at you.

“what’s there to be shy about, sunshine?” he says and you roll your eyes but you can’t help but smile as well.

“come on, open up.” he taps your knees and you do. his chest rise at the sight of you glistening for him. he licks his lips and your heart hammers seeing the tent in his pants.

“hurry up.” you tease him and he moves, gripping your thighs as he bends down and hooks your legs on his shoulders.

“patience.” he says as he kisses your inner thigh.

“you’re so wet for me.” he is in awe as he dives in, latching his mouth immediately on your clit. you grip his hair at the sudden wave of pleasure from his mouth. he sucks, relishing the taste of you as he flattens his tongue to lick a stripe from your seam. you feel him hum with satisfaction and you moan out his name airily as he eats you out like a starved man.

you arch your back when he sucks your clit again, you were dizzy and very much pleased how skilled his tongue is. the apothecary is filled with your breathy moans and sighs of his name and qimir groans when you tug his hair harshly as he slurps. he’s drooling, grinding down on the couch at how hard he is from eating you out.

“kriff.” he curses as he sucks and licks, alternating his mouth to your clit and opening. you could almost feel yourself cumming, the knot in your stomach is forming but as wonderful the thought of cumming on his tongue was, you wanted to come with him inside you.

“get u-up.” you shakily say, tugging his hair back harshly as he lifts his head up with it. you blink, core clenching seeing his chin and mouth glistening with your wetness. you tug again as he gets the memo as you released his greasy and messy hair. he sits back on his knees and you rise up slightly, letting your hands hurriedly pushing his bottoms down. he does it as well, desperate to free himself from his confines. with one pull down, he frees himself, cock spring out as it hits his abdomen. you drool at the sight of his hard prick and he grips himself, groaning out your name at the sensation.

“c-can i…?” he asks again, looking down at you with watery eyes. “can i fuck you, please?”

you nod dumbly, loving the way he is so cute to ask you first. “get inside me.” you command and spread your legs wider and he slots himself immediately between them. he rests his forehead against yours and you watch him line himself to your entrance. the tip of his cock sinks in and you kiss him hungrily. qimir shakily lets out a curse and a few breathy sighs between kisses as he pushes his hips forward to slot himself inside you. you mewl, feeling full as he pushes himself inch by inch.

“you’re so warm.” he says and you moan, you clench around him as he bottoms himself in you. he stays still for a moment, adjusting his arms to prop himself properly whilst you kiss every inch of his skin that comes near your mouth. you clench again and qimir shakily lifts his hips up then thrusts. you arch your back as he thrusts in again, grinding himself to your hips.

he sets a steady rhythm now and you grip his broad shoulders. your eyes meet his hazily and he moans out your name. the sound of skin slapping fills in the apothecary, outside is quiet and you think for a moment that maybe your neighbors would complain tomorrow of the noises you two make. your cunt wraps around him so perfectly it makes him feel like jelly. and the sound you make as he pounds into your cunt has him wanting for more.

your hearts beat loudly, sweat is shinning on both of your skins, kisses are shared and most of all, both of you feel complete even if it was unsaid at the moment. you could feel your high nearing as you glide your hand down to your clit, qimir’s rhythm is faltering as he feels himself coming undone. his hair disheveled and he feels you clench tight.

“come for me, qimir.” you whisper and he nods, groaning out your name as he fastens his pace. he bites his lip and his muscles clenched at it, and he empties himself inside you with a load groan of your name. you shoot up, rubbing your clit harshly as you come undone after him, his warm cum filling you. you clench around his hard cock and fall back onto the couch. you sigh, other hand gently brushing his hair out of his face.

he sighs as well, slowly pulling out making you whimper at the lost of the fullness. you see his eyes blink tiredly and you gently guide him to rest on your chest. he follows, wrapping his arm around your waist. your chest is still heaving from the intensity and you also feel yourself getting sleepy.

“i like you… like a lot.” he breaks the silence and you chuckled, caressing his hair as he snuggles his face between your breasts.

“i like you too.” you whisper and he smiles at that, eyes blinking sleepily as your hearts soar. you two fall into a deep slumber with satisfaction from the secrets that were finally not left unsaid anymore.

・゜゜・．

things did change after that night. you woke up with him still snoring soundly on your chest. the sun was peeking through the closed blinds of the store and you knew you had to break this soft moment as mae would arrive later. you were so happy that even though your friendship had shifted, it still held the same but with kisses shared and more smiles on your faces.

qimir clearly became more joyful as well. he walks with a spring on his steps as him and mae walk in the forests of khofar. you were left behind by the ship to keep a look out after the three you had escaped olega since the jedi order had caught mae on her mission and interrogated the two of you in the apothecary much to both of your dismays. qimir hums a happy tune and mae looks at him skeptically.

“so both of you finally managed to get on with it, huh?” she asks him as he suddenly stops in his steps, acting dumb and looks at the acolyte with feign confusion. “don’t act dumb. why do you call her sunshine?”

“because… she’s like the sun and she shines?” he shrugs and mae rolls her eyes, sighing.

“i don’t know what she sees in you but i’m glad she’s happy.” she says and they continue their walk while qimir grins.

“i’m happy as well!” he fakes a frown and mae ignores him.

you on the other hand are biting your lip nervously. night has already fallen and qimir and mae haven’t come back. your thoughts run wild and you worry that maybe the jedi wookie had got to them. especially qimir, you were worried for him even though you knew he could defend himself but with a blaster and maybe his dorky pleads to let him go. he did plead with you to stay put, leaving you with a kiss and a promise they’ll come back in one shape but you can’t help yourself.

you knew where the wookie’s house was in the forest. you were the one who managed to find it using your resources in khofar. now you trek in the woods, blaster in hand and followed the trail. you were getting worried not hearing qimir’s voice as you neared the house. but to your surprise, it was filled with countless dead jedis. you freeze in place as you surveyed the scene. did mae managed to do this? you think but it was likely.

you then heard a scrunch in the bushes and you swiftly turned around, aiming for whoever was there.

“hey! you’re here.” qimir emerges from the bushes and you are surprised.

“qimir? you had me worried.” you sighed, tucking your blaster back in your belt. he comes near you and the sun starts to rise and you can see him clearly now. your eyes widened seeing him dressed in black robes with muscled arms covered in dirt and sweat as if he gone through a fight, you tilt your head to the side and look him in the eyes.

“sorry. sorry.” he apologizes as he comes closer to you. you are silent for a moment, something in you skeptical at his sudden change of clothes. it was so familiar but as you were about to ask him on his style change, he then kisses you shortly and wraps his arms around you in a hug and rests his head on your shoulder with a tired sigh.

you blink, suddenly realizing something as you look down to his belt to see an awfully familiar saber. you reciprocated the hug but your brow twitching with irritation of another secret that was revealed that you clearly wished he had told you much earlier.

“you have a lot of explaining to do.”

“sorry.”

[dirtyvulture]

Something’s in the Air - Part 1

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: Natasha returns from a mission after being exposed to a chemical that makes her extremely, extraordinarily feral for you. 

Word count: 2362

AN: Here is the opening act of the long-awaited collaboration with @jedi-luca! Enjoy, sinners!

Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Natasha races down the empty hallway, trying to ignore the blaring alarms and flashing lights overhead. She can’t read any of the symbols marking the doors, and all she knows is that she’s looking for one with a triangle in the center of three overlapping circles, like a variation on the classic biohazard sign.

“You find him yet, Nat?” Clint buzzes in her earpiece.

“Not yet,” she responds. 

“Well, you’ve only got about another minute before HYDRA agents flood the building–”

“I know!” she snaps, her eyes finally settling on a triangle surrounded by three circles. “I found it!”

“Get him and let’s go!”

Natasha doesn’t need to be told twice, and she inputs the ten-digit code into the keypad on the door. It lights green to grant her access and she steps into a tiny, square room, no bigger than a broom closet, the heavy steel door automatically closing behind her. 

“Uh oh,” she says when she hears the door click shut. 

Suddenly, a white smoke starts to fill the tiny room, jetting out from the piping running along the walls and ceiling. Natasha covers her mouth with her arm, fumbling on her belt for a proper mask. The smoke stings her eyes and burns her throat, but the initial shock of pain is quickly overtaken by a warm, fuzzy feeling. Natasha staggers back into the wall, not even feeling the impact of the solid concrete as her stomach clenches in a way that’s familiar and foreign at the same time. 

But just as quickly as it had started, the pipes stop pumping out the gas and it clears away through the vents. She wipes at her watering eyes and sees a door in front of her with no lock. More cautiously this time, she opens it and finds herself staring down a young boy behind a glass wall.

“Clint, I found him.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha safely extracts the boy, wrapping him up in a ragged blanket she found on his bed, and carries him out in a bundle. She meets Clint just in time before the HYDRA agents realize their base has been compromised. They leave the boy in the custody of a SHIELD van and six agents. Natasha gives him a chocolate before they part ways. Her and Clint escape on the Quinjet, only breathing a sigh of relief once they are safely hidden amongst the clouds.

“When I was trying to get him, I got sprayed with something,” she tells him in a low voice.

“With what?” Clint doesn’t take his eyes off the dashboard.

“I don’t know.” 

“You seem fine.”

As if on cue, the same sharp pain that she experienced upon first inhaling the smoke punches her stomach again and she doubles over. 

“Shit,” she curses, trying to massage out the ache and feeling her cheeks flame in embarrassment when she finally realizes what the pain reminds her of. Although she wouldn’t describe it as a pain, but that feeling of being so aroused she wants to burst. 

“Nat?”

“Uh, never mind,” she says, not wanting to get into details with him.

“I’ll call ahead and have Dr. Cho ready to see you in the medical bay,” he says.

“I–Wait, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Natasha says, but Clint won’t listen to her, he’s already typing out a message to send to the doctor.

Natasha grumbles wordlessly and takes the seat next to Clint. She still isn’t sure  why SHIELD made such a point to send in some of their best Avengers to free a single young boy, but sometimes, the less details they knew the better, and now she had to worry about what exactly had been in that smoke. 

She takes her phone out from the backpack under the chair and sends you a text. But it’s almost three in the morning, so her text goes unanswered. With another 30 minutes until they’re home, Natasha boredly scrolls back up in the conversation, her attention caught by some of the old pictures you’ve sent her.

The first one she looks at is probably the most innocent of the bunch, a slightly blurred snapshot of you post-workout, your skin gleaming with sweat and your muscles pumped. Natasha bites her lip as her eyes trace down the veins on your stomach, following their path to the waistband of your shorts, which is not quite low enough to reveal perhaps her favorite body part of yours. 

She quickly skips to the next picture, which is much more scandalous and should not be viewed in a public setting, but luckily Clint is sitting in front of her. You’re lying down, the camera positioned down towards your muscular legs, but Natasha’s attention is drawn to the thick cock you have your hand wrapped around. Her center clenches around nothing; Natasha wishes she had your length inside of her, ramming into her hard and fast, until you came undone and pumped your seed deep into her womb.  

“Fuck,” she mutters to herself, crossing one leg over the other, trying to alleviate the pulsing at her core and failing. There was still so much time left until they landed, she didn’t know how she was going to survive. Out of pure desperation, she considers touching herself (still in the vicinity of where Clint can hear her, but he can turn his hearing aid down, can’t he?) right there in the Quinjet, and it takes all of her mental strength to keep her hands on her knees. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, why she’s so horny all of a sudden. 

All she knows is if she doesn’t have you inside her in the next hour, she may actually die.

Using her advanced Red Room torture resistance techniques, Natasha barely clings to her sanity for the next 30 minutes. She grinds herself subtly on her seat, although it does next to nothing to ease the ache in her stomach. 

“Can’t you fly faster?” she asks Clint eventually through gritted teeth. “It’s not like there’s any traffic in the sky.”

“I’m doing my best,” Cint responds. 

“Well, going a little faster would be nice.”

Clint doesn’t bite back at her even though he wants to. Overall, Natasha seems okay even after her exposure to the unknown gas, but Clint knows his best friend better than herself. Something is bothering her–badly–and she doesn’t want to talk about it, which means it can only be one thing. 

Natasha wants to cry in relief when the iconic “A” of the Avengers Tower comes into view. She practically hijacks the controls from Clint trying to land the plane faster, but just before she can sprint out of the Quinjet, Clint grabs onto her.

“You have to see Dr. Cho first,” Clint says sternly, holding onto her arms in a vice grip. 

“I don’t want to see the doctor. I want Y/N,” Natasha says, almost in tears. Her core is practically on fire at this point and she wouldn’t be surprised if her panties are ruined. 

“Y/N will be there,” Clint assures her, dragging her to the elevator and going one floor down. Despite the early hour, Dr. Cho waits sleepily to greet them at the entrance of the medical bay. Natasha practically throws a fit as Dr. Cho escorts her to a private room, while Clint disappears without an explanation.

“I’m fine, Doctor,” Natasha insists as Dr. Cho has her sit down on the edge of the plastic bed. 

“Agent Barton said you may have been exposed to some unknown chemical,” Dr. Cho says, shining a bright penlight into her eyes and opening her mouth to examine her tongue and tonsils. 

“I’m fine,” Natasha repeats, shifting agitatedly and crinkling the white paper covering the bed. 

Dr. Cho squints at her. “I’ll be back to run some more tests,” she says, disappearing with a flip of her white lab coat. 

Natasha groans and falls back on the bed, unzipping the collar of her uniform down to her chest, flapping her hands to cool her face. She thinks back to the pictures of you she looked at on her phone and before she can even stop herself, sticks her hands down her pants, ignoring how unusually wet she is, her fingers gliding through her soaked folds to press into herself.

“Fuck,” she mutters, kicking her legs wider to find a more comfortable position. Natasha can easily fit three fingers into herself already, a feat that normally takes some working up to, although it pales in comparison to the size of your cock. She pants at the thought of you on top of her, your body hot and heavy against hers, the feeling of your muscles flexing as you devote your strength to pleasuring her. She clenches hard around her fingers, trying to imagine them as your cock instead, hard and throbbing, stretching her apart in the best of ways and filling her better than any toy or substitute can. 

Suddenly, there is a knock on her door and Natasha pauses mid-thrust.

“Nat? Babe, it’s me,” your croaky voice says on the other side.

“Come in!” she responds.

You open the door, still in your pajamas. Clint had called you until you woke up, telling you that while the mission had been a success, Natasha had come down with something and you needed to see her immediately. Without properly dressing, you staggered down to the medical bay, worried about your girlfriend despite your own exhaustion and delirium from being woken up at three in the morning. 

And now you stare at her, jaw dropped, as Natasha is lying on the hospital bed, her hand disappearing down her shorts, her forehead covered in a light layer of sweat. 

“Are you–” you start.

“I need you,” she begs, removing her hand and your heart thumps when you see that it is completely soaked in her slick. “Y/N, please, I need you.”

“What happened?” you ask, as your legs seem to have a mind of their own and gravitate to her side. Natasha reaches out for you, her hand twisting in the front of your shirt to draw you closer. She tugs it up, trying to shove her hand into the waistband of your shorts next and you stop her gently. “Nat.”

“I got sprayed with something while I was trying to free the subject,” she says, clawing at your abs. “At first it didn’t seem to affect me, but when we were on the way back, I just felt this overwhelming need…for you.”

“For me?” 

She nods, biting her lip and looking at you with her bedroom eyes. Suddenly, your whole body lights awake, and you strip out of your shirts and shorts, climbing on the bed with Natasha and the structure squeaks under your added weight. Natasha pulls you on top of her, frantically wiggling out of her suit so she can feel you skin-to-skin. She kisses you ferociously, bruising your lips and clacking her teeth against yours, but you respond with equal enthusiasm, not really sure why she’s so desperate for you all of a sudden but not going to complain either. 

You roll your hips in a gyrating motion, dragging your hardening cock along the insides of her slick thighs, unable to help yourself when you let out a moan at her impressive wetness. You’ve never seen her so ready for you, and you know you’ll have no trouble slipping inside. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Natasha pants, dragging her nails along the muscular planes of your back and gripping onto your butt. “Stop teasing, baby,” she begs, trying to guide you to her entrance but you hold back. 

“I haven’t even gone in and you’re already going to cum,” you point out, although you’re surprisingly close yourself, seeing how turned on your girlfriend is for you. You look down to see your cock shining with her wetness, the veins on it throbbing. 

“I can’t cum without you,” Natasha says, and you lose all patience and discipline. You line yourself up with her entrance and push in hard, moaning when wet velvet wraps around your cock and Natasha moans in absolute relief at finally being filled. You pound into her, the muscles in your thighs and abs flexing like steel bands. Natasha keens as she takes you, knowing that you’re the only one who can bring her to a high that will have her entire body shaking, her lungs screaming, her nails marking red lines down your shoulders and back that everyone will see when you go to the gym tomorrow.

“God, Nat, you’re so wet,” you say between thrusts, using all your strength to hold yourself upright, when Natasha’s pussy is so tight and hot around you that your thighs are trembling and you can’t focus on anything other than the heat between your legs. You want to last longer, so you broaden your strokes, slowing down your pace but burying yourself even deeper with each thrust.

“Yes, just like that,” Natasha moans as the head of your cock presses against her sensitive walls. “Keep going, baby. Don’t stop.” She wants you to be buried to the hilt when you release her load, she wants to drain you of every drop you have to offer.

“Almost…there…” you grunt, squeezing her hips tighter as you pin her against the bed. The ball of arousal in your stomach burns hotter as you near your peak, and Natasha knows your body well enough to sense that your finish is near. She pulses around you harder and you drop your head against her breasts, panting like you’re running the last mile of a marathon. “Nat, Nat I’m gonna–”

It takes one more powerful thrust that causes the entire hospital bed to collapse under your combined weight. You jerk your hips forward as your cum shoots out of your cock in short, hard bursts. Natasha practically cries in relief as you fill her to the brim. 

At the same second all of this is happening, Dr. Cho comes back into the room. She says nothing, only nodding in immediate understanding and quickly backing out. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Part 2 by @jedi-luca is here!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content.

[thesassypadawan]

Feel The Force (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: It’s May the Fourth and what better way to spend it than with your big dork of a boyfriend, the dark lord himself, Hayden! Even though you two aren’t able to see each other all that much during the day…you still manage to squeeze in some quality time to ‘feel the force’.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Bad puns, public sex, up against the wall, and, as always… Hayden’s big, fat dick.

Notes: May The Fourth Be With You! 🖤❤️

- It was May the Fourth, one of your absolute favorite holidays!

- What better way to celebrate it than at a con. Rocking your FemObi cosplay. Surrounded by fellow nerds, who are just as passionate about the franchise as you are. And, of course, with your big dork of a boyfriend, the original moody teen from Tatooine, Hayden.

- Despite not being able to see each other all that much during the event. You two still manage to squeeze in some quality time here and there. Which typically involves Hay showing how ‘wizard’ he thinks the most recent addition to your costume is. A pair of black booty shorts with ‘I Only Date Sith Lords’ printed perfectly across one of your cheeks.

- As the day goes on though, your ‘negotiation talks’ become more and more ‘aggressive’. And, soon enough, he’s dragging you off to a somewhat deserted hallway in the con center. Begging you to let him show you his ‘lightsaber skills’.

- “Hay, we’re going to get caught,” you giggle. Shrugging off your cloak and handing it to him, just like he asked.

- Quickly he pulls it on, flashing you one of those damn smiles. “Guess you’ll have to find a way to muffle all those cute sounds of yours. Think you manage that?”

- Biting your bottom lip, you nod excitedly. Tugging impatiently at the cloak, wrapping it around you both.

- “That’s, my good little padawan,” he chuckles. Backing you against the wall, shrugging down a bit to capture your lips in a searing kiss. Big hands resting on your hips; squeezing and kneading them gently.

- Moaning softly, your fingers get to work. Frantically unbuttoning and unzipping, pushing his jeans just far enough to free his rock-hard cock. “Someone’s eager for the fun to begin.”

- “Can’t help it,” he groans. Yanking at and helping you slip out of those wonderful shorts. That are hurriedly stuffed into his hoodie pocket, most likely not to be returned until the end of con. “Want more.”

- “Ah uh, you know you shouldn’t,” you tease. Leg hiking up onto his hip, the other balancing precariously on your tiptoes. While your hand fumbles to shift your panties off to the side.

- Still having to crouch a bit, Hayden lines himself up. Fat head prodding at your soaked entrance, he growls low in your ear. “Oh well, I was never the jedi I should be.” Before thrusting forward, burying himself inside your tight pussy.

- You press your face in his neck, trying to cover up your sobs from feeling that familiar burning ache. Teeth nipping at his shoulder as he starts pounding up into you, splitting you open so deliciously.

- For as much of a hot mess as you’re becoming, he’s fairing no better. Panting above you with every pump of his impressive length, hand firmly gripping your thigh. “W-when I’m around you…m-my mind is no longer my own. It’s al-always a muddle…can only t-think of you.”

- Those words, coupled with his long fingers desperately circling your clit; aid in speeding your release along. Making you clench hard around him, head tipping back while you mewl out loudly. “Kriff! Gonna…gonna…”

- Bending, he leans his forehead against yours. His blue eyes blown wide with lust; lips curled in a smirk. “You grow too aggressive. Be mindful.”

- Picking up his pace, hitting that sweet spot over and over. You barely manage to gasp out, “I…I lo-love you,” before the pleasure overtakes you. Tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, whole body clamping down on him. While you completely and totally go crashing over the edge.

- “I know,” he grunts. Bucking into you one last time, reaching his peak too. Filling you with rope after rope of hot, sticky cum.

- Mouths melding to stifle the noise coming from both of you. Bodies trembling against one another, riding out your aftershocks together. Utterly oblivious to the slow, steady stream of con attendees filtering out of the nearby panel room.

- It isn’t until you pull your head back that you notice how packed the hallway has become. Letting out a small squeak of surprise, you tense up. Walls giving an involuntary flutter, fists scrambling to pull the cloak around you two tighter. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

- Hayden on the other hand… Realizing your predicament, a smug look crosses his face. Cock twitching in interest, hardening again. Hips start to rock as he leans in more, muttering. “Relax. Just feel the force overflowing inside of you…trickling down your leg, onto the floor.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

[aynavaano]

The light of Umbara

Kinktober ‘24 - exhibitionism

Rex/501st × F!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 1.5k

Summary: You’re in a relationship with Rex and the latest mission is proving to be especially hard. When his messages get more and more hopeless you decide to take matters in your own hands.

Notes: This is the first of a few shorter fics I wrote for Kinktober. If you have any special kink and clone you would love to see, my request are open. We have recording of masturbation, kind of remote barracks bunny? All for our favorite captain and his men.

The war was never easy, but Umbara was a special kind of hell.

You had been through long missions before, waiting for Rex to return from one battle after another, but this time was different. Umbara was a planet drenched in darkness-both literally and figuratively.

The constant shadow of war had worn down the men, and you could feel the weight in Rex's messages. General Skywalker had been called away on urgent business, leaving the 501st in the hands of General Krell, a Jedi that couldn't have been more different from Anakin. Cold, calculating, and seemingly indifferent to the lives of his men, Krell was draining the spirit out of the entire battalion.

You could feel it in Rex's words. He tried to stay strong, as he always did, but you knew him better than anyone. His messages came less frequently, and when they did, they were short, tired. You could feel his frustration with Krell, his exhaustion with the war, and the weight of leadership pressing down on him.

One night, you received a message from Rex, and this time, it wasn't about the mission.

"Everyone's down. Krell is making things harder than they need to be. It's taking a toll on the men.. on all of us. Just wanted to hear from you. Miss you."

Your heart ached for him. You knew the toll this war took, not just on his body but on his spirit, and it was times like these when he needed something to lift him up.

That's when you got an idea.

Rex had told you before that when morale was low, anything that could lift the spirits of the men -even something small- could make a world of difference.

So, you decided to give them something that would do more than just raise morale.

You wanted to give them hope.

A little light in the dark.

You took your datapad, positioning it above your bed just right. You spent half an hour fumbling round trying to suspend it from your ceiling lamp. And when you finally succeeded you stripped down, leaving on only a very tiny pair of lace panties - the ones Rex had always liked, the ones that made his breath hitch whenever he saw you in them.

You felt a thrill as you adjusted the datapad, ensuring it captured your entire body.

Once you were satisfied with the angle, you hit record.

Laying back against your pillows, you let out a soft sigh, slowly pushing the blanket off your body, revealing your bare skin.

You imagined Rex watching you, imagined him being right there with you, and it sent a shiver down your spine. Your hands moved slowly, teasingly, over your skin. You wanted to draw this out, to make it as enticing as possible, not just for Rex but for the men who might see it too.

Your fingers trailed down your stomach, playing at the edge of your lace panties before slipping just beneath the fabric.

You moaned softly, knowing the camera was catching every sound, every twitch of pleasure as you began touching yourself. Your fingers moved between your slick folds, already soaked from the thought of what you were doing and who would be watching.

You slowly slid off your panties and threw them towards the camera with a teasing smile.

But you weren’t done yet.

You reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the white-and-blue marbled dildo that Rex had given you as a gift, a reminder of him while he was away.

You held it up to the camera for a moment, letting the men watching know exactly what was coming.

Slowly, you slid the dildo down your body, spreading your legs to make sure the got a good view, teasing your clit with the tip before pressing it inside you.

The sensation made you gasp, your back arching off the bed as the dildo filled you. You pumped it in and out of yourself, letting your moans grow louder as you imagined it was Rex thrusting into you. You could almost hear his voice in your ear, whispering sweet, filthy things as he took you apart.

"Rex," you moaned softly, your free hand moving to your breast, pinching your nipple as you picked up the pace. You knew how to work yourself up, how to give them a show, and you weren't going to stop until you were trembling from your first orgasm.

It didn't take long. The combination of the dildo and your fingers rubbing circles against your clit had you spiraling fast. With one final thrust, you cried out, your body shuddering as the first orgasm ripped through you.

But you weren't done. Not yet.

You pulled the dildo out, laying back against the pillows as you caught your breath. But the heat between your legs was still burning, and you needed more. You started again, rubbing your clit, pushing yourself toward a second orgasm. This time, the build-up was slower, more intense. You could already feel a slight overstimulation setting in, but that only made it better.

"Fuck," you moaned softly, your fingers moving faster as the pleasure in your core built again.

The squelching of you pussy when you thrusted the dildo back in was straight up lewd and you shuddered feeling yourself stretch around it.

With one final moan, your body convulsed, your second orgasm crashing over you in waves, even better than the first one. Your breath was ragged, your body glistening with sweat as you finally set the dildo aside, your hands trembling.

You reached for the datapad, stopping the recording.

Your heart raced as you attached the video to a message, typing out a quick note:

"A little light in the dark, for you. And for the boys, if you want to share."

You sent the message off, your heart pounding with anticipation. It was bold -risky even-but you knew Rex, and you knew he'd appreciate it. Now, all you had to do was wait.

You ran yourself a hot bath, sinking into the water as you let the warmth soothe your muscles. You couldn't stop thinking about the video, about Rex's reaction when he saw it. Would he watch it alone? Would he share it with his brothers? The thought made your core tighten again, your body aching for his touch.

Hours passed, you got out of the tub, ordered some food and cuddle up on the couch with a holodrama and just as you were beginning to think you might not hear from him tonight, your datapad pinged.

"Look what you did. Love you so much."

Your heart skipped a beat as you opened the attachment.

The video began, and immediately, you recognized the familiar dim lighting of a barracks room. In the middle of the room was a table with a datapad, and from the sounds, you knew it was your video playing. You moans echoed through the small space.

The men were gathered around the table, most of them in their white-and-blue armor and some in their blacks, the same ones you had seen a thousand times. But now, there was something different in the air-something heavy, almost primal.

Groans and gasps filled the room as the men watched your video. You could see their hands moving toward their cocks, some already stroking themselves as the video continued. The camera didn't show faces, but you could hear their breath hitching, could see the way their bodies tensed as they watched you touch yourself.

A few of them hesitated at first, but as your moans filled the room, it was clear that none of them could resist. You heard the familiar clicking of codpieces being removed and by the end of the video, all of them had their cocks in their hands, stroking themselves in time with your movements.

You watched in awe as the men gave in completely to their desires, their breathing heavy as they lost themselves in the video. When the recording got to the part where you fucked yourself with the dildo in the colors of their battalion there was no holding back.

One by one, they came, their groans filling the room as they spilled onto the table in front of them. It was messy, desperate, and incredibly hot.

But the best part came at the end. As the last few moans faded, you heard Rex's voice, soft but clear, cutting through the darkness.

"Can't wait to come home to you and reward you," he whispered.

And then the video ended.

You stared at the screen, your heart racing, your body trembling with arousal. You could hardly believe what you had just watched, and yet, the thought of all those men coming undone to the sight of you-it made you ache for more. But it was Rex's words that stuck with you, the promise of what awaited you when he finally came home.

You sank down onto the cushions of your sofa slipping your hand into your panties, you were soaked, your mind spinning. Rex had always been a man of his word, and you knew that when he returned, he wouldn't just reward you - he would worship you.

[thedarlingdearestdead]

New Religion:

Summary: After a dangerous battle Obi Wan HAS to see you. It continues from there.

Warnings: Serious, shameless smut. Religious references. Unprotected sex (don't do that).

Word count: 1,750

The flight back was long, the meeting with the council which followed was longer. All the time he had not been able to change his clothes, had not been able to think. He had been on total communications duty, diplomacy was his gift after all. His job was important, the battle had been an essential development and his part in it was not small. It was his duty to do all of it, but it did exhaust him on this occasion. 

And in truth, the battle had shaken him. It had been more bloody and more violent than the ones before, the war had only just begun and already there had been such destruction. His ears were still ringing from the explosions and all the muscles in his body stung and ached with overuse. They begged him to slow down, to stop and rest. But he couldn’t. The faster he did all of this, the faster he could see you.

And he was desperate to see you. There was a moment during the firefight when he had almost been beheaded by a flying piece of shrapnel. While he had faced death before, this event had him spiralling. The thought of you flashing in the front of his mind and imprinted the back of his eyes ever since. You clouded his vision, he was sure that the reason he was taking so long to communicate with these various parties was his distraction. A part of him was annoyed, regretful at the weakness. He was a Jedi, only supposed to have one religion. But that was before he knew you. 

His shields had gotten progressively more impenetrable with the advent of war, with the beginnings of you. The council didn’t suspect a thing, no one did. He would keep your secret to his death. So as much as he wanted to rush to you, run through the halls to find you, he did not. He stayed and answered all of the generals’ questions with the ease of practise, pretending like he was not bleeding out for love of you.

When he was finally released from the council chamber, he beelined his way to his quarters. He needed to change out of his battle gear, his robes were soaked in sweat and blood. His mind raced, the thought of you waiting for him was the only thing that kept him moving forward. He did it mechanically, on autopilot, distracted. All he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his body trembling with anticipation.

Arrived to his room he quickly stripped off his gear. He stood naked, his body was bruised and covered in scrapes so when he showered it stung, he didn't feel it. Once finished he grabbed a towel and wiped himself down, the coolness of the fabric against his skin calming his nerves. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to focus his mind. He couldn't let his emotions get the better of him, not now. He was safe, he was sure you were too. If only he could see you, touch you, make you into something tangible. 

He dressed quickly in fresh robes, his fingers fumbling with the buttons as he tried to hurry. His long hair was still damp, and his white shirt went slightly sheer in the places around his shoulders and collarbones. He didn't care. 

He was about to grab his cloak and go find you when you entered, sliding in and shutting the door fast to run over to him. 

His strong arms wrapped forcefully around your waist and he exhaled a sigh of relief into your shoulder which echoed your own thoughts. Taking a moment just to hold you, convince himself that you were real. 

"Thank Force you're alright." You say into his chest, feeling his heartbeat, his warmth. "I didn't know. I was called out to Naboo, we didn't get signal from Coruscant until we were flying back this morning. I had to see you, I've been waiting since we got back. I was so worried."

You choke back tears and he pulls away, holding you looser now, reassured. His hands move up to your face, wiping your eyes, "It got out of control, and darling, you were all I could think about."

He kissed you then, hot and desperate after days of peril and fear, and being apart from you. 

His lips moved against yours with a practiced ease, consuming, familiar, comforting. He had been waiting for this moment, this one moment where he could finally let go of all the fears and doubts that had been plaguing him. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, deepening the kiss. He tasted of sweat and soap and something uniquely him. You could feel the roughness of his stubble against your skin, the way he breathed you in as if you were the only air he needed to survive.

"I love you," he said, his voice strained with emotion. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

You smiled at him tenderly, "I love you too," you replied, your fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the hardness of his muscles beneath the fabric. "But you don't need to worry. You will never lose me."

Your lips met his in a blaze of passion, your bodies melting into each other. His hands moved down your back, pressing you closer to him, as if he was trying to merge your two bodies into one. 

All you could feel was his touch, his breath against your skin, his love.

He lifted you up and carried you to his bed, laying you down gently and then hovering over you. Taking your mouth again in a breathless expression of want. You could feel the heat building between your bodies, the longing and the need growing stronger with each passing second. You were already starting to grind up into him. 

He removed his shirt, and you pretended your heart didn't break to see it peppered with so many injuries. You wanted to stop, say something, but his hands had gone into your pants, his tongue back into your mouth, stopping your words. 

His lips moved erratically down on your body, his hands going everywhere. Your fingers threaded through his hair as he nipped down at your hip. He had been talking about cutting his beautiful locks since the war broke, you hoped you could dissuade him of this. You loved its softness, you loved having something to hold onto, by all accounts he did too.

He was hard against your leg, you could feel yourself quivering with the intensity of his arousal. You reached down and wrapped your hand around him, loving the way he shuddered against you. 

"Darling," he gasped, his eyes closing in pleasure as you stroked him. He stilled for a moment, forehead balancing over yours, he was breathing heavily. "I need you." 

"Then have me." That was all the permission he needed. He pulls away from you briefly, and you watch him remove his trousers, discarding them to the floor. Coming back down to edge yours off as well. His arousal was hard, straining, the tip glistening wetly. You sat up and pulled your shirt off over you head, you wanted to feel him against your naked skin.

It was too much, he couldn't take his eyes away from you. He had wanted to see bare, wanted his mouth on every inch of your body since he had last seen you. Maybe he wanted it all his life.

His eyes caressed you until he couldn't stand not to touch you anymore. 

A shiver ran down your back. His hands slipped between your thighs, trailing down over your hips, your stomach and thighs, they were warm, rough. Hands that you loved, hands that you needed, fingers that you wanted inside you. 

You were so wet, so ready for him. You pulled his mouth back to yours, moaning into his mouth. He slipped one finger, then two inside you. He lowered himself down to your breasts, his tongue flicking at your nipples. His fingers moved in and out of you, curling against your pleasure point. You could feel yourself getting closer, your head was spinning with the sensations. Spinning with him.

You stop him though, and pulled his mouth back to yours, moaning into his mouth to stop his protest. 

"I need you inside of me. I want to feel all of you inside of me."

He groaned and said nothing, words seemingly escaped him, he entered you so easily and deliciously so you almost screamed. 

Looking into his deep blue eyes and you knew nothing in the universe could feel as good as this moment.

He had one hand on your waist the other grabbed for your hand as he began to move. Whispering profanities most unbecoming of a religious man. 

The intensity of this feeling threatening to overwhelm you. You're moaning now, matching him thrust for thrust. He moans and gasps as you feel him get closer, you feel your own pleasure building, his fingers digging into your hip, his mouth on your neck. You bite down on his shoulder to stay quiet. 

"I missed you." He said, in between frantic kisses. "I missed you so much. This is worth every moment away, I promise. I'll never leave you again."

"I missed you so much. Oh Force, I missed you so much." You both were in a frantic, breathless rhythm now, gasping, lead. He had never felt this good before, it was like the first time you had ever come together. Desperate and new and intoxicating. 

He was close, so close. He wanted to hold it back but you weren't stopping, you didn't want him to hold it back. You wanted him to lose control one last time. To lose control inside you. 

When he came he said a prayer into your neck, and it was your name. Your hand cradles the back of his head and you press your lips up against his neck, his stubble rough against your face, your lips. You loved watching him lose control, especially in the blur of your own pleasure, it was intoxicating. Enough to bring you over the edge with him, feeling his entire weight and being full of his seed.

He paused, your body, your mind, your soul, all tense. You were waiting, wanting. In that moment you were complete, you were his. You were real. 

[seeingivy]

spiderman’s sweetheart 

spider!eren x f!reader 

you find yourself helping out your friendly neighborhood spiderman

content: spiderman au!, mentions of violence/blood/injury, a very corny spider gang, pieck + hange best girlfriends and aunts, they keep calling the female titan a pervert, the iconic spiderverse monologue at the end

an: based on a request I received from @cutiejg hope you like it sweetie pie!!!! ur request made me so excited I just had to write it now bc I LOVE LOVE LOVE SPIDERMAN 

-- 

Eren’s late. He’s late, he’s late, he’s late. 

His skateboards not moving him nearly fast enough and the stupid fucking school security stopping him every ten feet isn’t helping him either. And the cracks in the pavement slowing him down and the soreness from last night aren’t exactly boosters either. 

When he reaches the basketball courts, he sees you sitting there and feels his heart drop - black sunglasses perched on your face, your hair glowing in the sun, and your nose stuck in a book. As he walks up, he instantly recognizes the cover of the book you’re reading - The Heir to the Jedi - one of his favorite novels from when he was younger. 

He picks up his skateboard from the ground, running his hand through his hair one time before he clears his throat to get your attention. He watches intently as look up, giving him a smile as you yank your earbuds out of your ears. 

“Hi. I’m Eren. Eren Yeager. From the yearbook? We uh- went to elementary school together. And middle school. The same class too - with that hardass Mr. Levi? And uh-I’m sorry I’m late, I just got out of work.” 

Work. In his job as the cities most wanted vigilante, Spiderman. 

He’s cut off by the sound of you laughing, your nimble fingers pulling your sunglasses off the tip of your nose and pulling them up to hold your hair back. 

Fuck. This is infinitely harder when you’re making direct eye contact with him, glowing eyes peering into his. 

“I know who you are, Eren.” 

“You do?” 

“Of course, I do. How could I forget the guy who spilled orange juice all over Mr. Levi - the clean freak hardass himself’s - desk? 

Eren feels his cheeks burn, embarrassment coursing through his blood as he fumbles with the camera around his neck. Great. All you remember is the time he got yelled at and sent to the principal’s office in seventh grade for being clumsy. 

It’s not his fault he spilled the fucking orange juice. You just happened to look at him right at that second, pulling your face up from your textbook, to smile at him and his hands just started sweating and it just happened. 

“Right, uh- so you like Star Wars?” 

He watches you gather your belongings - a pale green waterbottle, your solid black backpack - covered in pins and ribbons as you both head down to the courts. One pin catches his eyes - the signature spider emblem right in the middle. The “I Stand with Spiderman” pins. 

A month after he started this whole Spiderman thing, the police chief called a task-force, aimed towards arresting the “spider vigilante” that was wrecking havoc. He almost got caught, backed up into a corner during one of his first fights, but the people in the city blocked him off, giving him enough time to get away. 

It was…a whole moment. The community, the people - they love Spiderman. So much that they started a whole movement to protect him, started by a group called “The Lions.” The names corny, but they’ve protected him more times than not so…he appreciates it. And that pin - it means you’re a part of it. 

Not only are you a part of a group that supports him, but you’re the class president of the school. And he’s the editor in chief of the yearbook. And in your presidential duties, you’ve tasked him with joining you at all your club progress meetings to take pictures of each club. It’s easier to do it together so you don’t take up that much time from each club - one meeting to get all the business sorted out. 

“Huh? Oh! Because of the book. Yeah, my little brother, Falco. Really into that stuff.” 

“Does he have a favorite character?” 

“Kylo Ren.” 

“I was Kylo Ren for Halloween. Armin, Jean, and Connie were the knights.” 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Why the fuck did he just tell you that he was a nerdy fucking Star Wars character for Halloween? Did he seriously just admit that he has the same interests as your fucking eleven year old little brother? 

“That’s clever, since it sounds like your name and all. Eren - Ren. Falco and I went as Harry and Hermione.” 

“Ah. You should be Rey and Finn next year. Because you’re like….a ray?” 

He watches you turn over to look at him, eyes squinting in confusion. 

Because she’s a ray? Eren Yeager, literal fucking spider-human who can swing from literal buildings, and the best he can come up with is you’re a ray. He couldn’t even finish the sentence and say ray of sunshine? 

“If I’m a ray, than you’re a segment.” 

He laughs so hard, he snorts and it’s literally so fucking embarrassing he wants to crawl in a hole. 

Math joke. You made a math joke. Because if she’s a ray, a part of a line that has no fixed end point, then he’s a segment - a line with two distinct end points. 

Eren tries his best to concentrate, but your sweet honey voice and your soft flowery smell make it hard to pay attention. He snaps the pictures. He walks you to your car. He goes to sleep with a smile on his face. 

- 

from y/n l/n 

you: eren!!! the basketball pictures are so great. ty for all ur help :’) 

Armin, Connie, Jean, and Eren all hover their heads over the phone - lying flat on his bed spread - trying their best to write out the best response. 

This is serious. Eren’s had a crush on you since the fourth grade. And this is his chance. 

“You should tell her thank you. And that you want to get coffee with her.” 

Connie grabs Armin by the collar of his shirt, nearly strangling him in the process. 

“Are you fucking kidding, Armin? He might as well say he wants to have sex with her.” 

Eren can feel his cheeks heat up as Armin and Connie start arguing, half swatting each other on the face. Armin’s screaming into Connie’s ear, the both of them tangling on the floor now. 

“What the fuck are you on about, Connie? It’s coffee shop, not a fucking bar.” 

Eren webs the two of them off each other, giving them both a smack on the back of the head as they stop. 

“You can’t web us Eren. We’re your guys in the chair!” 

Originally, Eren had one guy in the chair. Armin. A bloody genius at all things science and technology - he couldn’t have designed his web slingers without him. Granted, he tried but they didn’t work as well. 

But then he had to tell Connie. Because Connie had an in at the fabric store, his best friend Sasha’s mom as the primary designer, and he desperately needed someone to design a suit so he could keep his identity a secret. So he told him. Because that’s the only way Sasha’s mom would agree. If her biological son basically begged her to make a suit. 

Connie’s a loudmouth. Who told Jean. Who isn’t entirely useless. Sure he’s got a pretty big fucking head, but his dad is also a cop - meaning Jean can steal their radio systems so Eren can respond to events faster than them. 

A spider gang. 

“You’re both some big fucking idiots, that’s what you are. Where the fuck were you raised, Connie? A barn?” 

Eren, Connie, and Armin immediately stop talking the second they hear the swishing sound fill the air, turning their heads to find Jean with the phone in his hands. He sent a message. 

Jean’s smirking at the three of them, shaking the phone in his hands. Eren immediately stalks over, his eyes boggling out of his fucking sockets when he reads the response. 

to y/n l/n 

eren: thanks bae! 

“Jean Kirstein. Count your fucking days.” 

He immediately webs Jean to the wall behind him, slapping across the face one time for good measure as well. 

“What gives? It’s sweet - calling back to the ray joke you told us about.” 

Jean yanks his hand off the drywall, placing the stray webs onto Eren’s bed spread. 

“The ray joke? Your dumbass literally responded with ‘thanks bae’”

Jean sits up, snatching the phone from Eren’s hands as he runs his eyes over the phone again. Jean’s face turns uncharacteristically pink, an apologetic look on his face. Eren tags him to the wall behind him, spiderwebs holding his wrists up properly to the drywall this time. 

“Touch my phone again and I’ll web you upside down from the Empire State Building next.” 

“It was autocorrect! I thought I typed ray.” 

Eren webs over Jean’s mouth to prevent him from talking any further. He plops on the floor, head in his hands. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. This can’t get any more embarrassing. First he spills that orange juice in front of you and then calls you a ray and is late to meeting with you and now sends you this fucking horrifying text? 

You’re going to block him. You’re going to block him and Eren’s going to lose his chance with you. Eren is most definitely going to hang Jean upside down from the Empire State Building. 

His phone dings in the air and the three of them - Connie, Armin, and Eren - nearly drop the phone off the fucking bed trying to read the response. Jean’s voice is muffled against the web - sounding an awful lot like “if it’s a good response, you have to set me up with Mikasa”

from y/n l/n 

you: you’re welcome sweetheart :DDD 

Armin and Connie are fucking shaking Eren by the neck, the three of them screaming in the air. Jean’s still muffling against his web, begging to find out what you responded. 

Eren ignores that embarrassing heart skip in his chest. 

 - 

“Where is it guys?” 

Eren turns up his earpiece, swinging towards the end of the buildings. He could hear the crashing as he was walking back to his apartment, decking into the alley way to suit up. 

Armin - in all of his fucking genius - created matching earpieces for the four of them to use when Eren was on sight, everyone making sure a base was covered. Armin reported on the casualty, trying his best to think of ways to use the enemies weaknesses to Eren’s advantage. 

Connie watched the security cams Jean gave him access to, finding the best access route for Eren to get in and out of places. And Jean, in all his annoyingness, kept surveillance on the fucking cops trying to arrest him at every move. 

“Rose Middle School. Apparently, it’s like some fucking superhuman female titan and she’s giant. She’s wrecking through the parks right now.” 

“On it, Armin. Jean and Connie - keep me updated on where the cops are.” 

“Make sure a flaming car hits Mr. Levi.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Jean.” 

Eren turns his ear piece down, swinging into his old middle school as he surveys the problem. 

And Lord have mercy, she is fucking giant. A chiseled titan of pure muscle, striking blue eyes and blonde hair watching him swing through the air. She’s currently demolishing the PE equipment, which he imagines can’t be too bad, given it’s centuries old. 

Maybe they’ll finally replace the pickle ball equipment with a real sport - like basketball of volleyball. Eren webs her ankles and arms together first, knocking her down to the side. 

“Hey lady. Have you ever thought about like…putting clothes on? This feels weirdly inappropriate.” 

She only roars in response, breaking open the webs around her ankles as she reaches around for him in the air. Eren swings around her, basically flying through the air, as he tags her to the tree behind her. He taps into the ear piece, waiting for a response. 

“Best idea is to leave her there for now, Eren. There’s a kid around the block, make sure he’s okay before you try again.” 

“On it, Armin.” 

He swings around the block, to find one pale, blonde haired kid - a nose stuck in his book and headphones covering his ears. Did he not just see the hoard of kids running away? Or here that female titan just scream? 

He steps down, using his webs to yank the kids headphones off as he steps down in front of him. When the kid looks up, he realizes he has a puddle full of tears in his eyes, his cheeks brazen pink. 

“Hey kid.” 

He sniffles in response, pressing his hand against his nose. 

“Hi.” 

He crouches down, holding out his hand to shake. 

“I’m Spiderman. What’s your name?” 

“Falco.” 

“Nice to meet you, Falco. Want to get out of here before that creepy little weird lady comes back?” 

“Um, yeah. But my sister is supposed to come get me.” 

“Your sister, huh? Did she say where?” 

Stupid sister. Was she really planning on getting you from here? This sister couldn’t meet him at the Starbucks across the street?

“Right here. I’m waiting for her to show up so we can leave. She said to listen to music and read my jedi book so I don’t panic.” 

Jedi Book. Sister. Falco. You. Holy fucking god, this is your little brother. The one who likes the Kylo Ren. 

Right on cue, he can feel his spider sense tingling, with you running behind him - sneakers slapping against the concrete as you sprint. You nearly knock Spiderman over as you grab Falco by the face, cupping his cheeks in your hands as you run your eyes all over him. 

Your face is all scrunched up in panic and Eren can feel his senses heightened at the sight of you, this kid, and this creepy fucking titan lady a few feet away from you. You need to leave. Now. He needs you to leave because he can’t focus if you’re here. 

“You okay, Coco? Let’s go. Right now.” 

“Okay, okay.” 

But before you can, a large crashing sound knocks the three of you to the ground, the stupid female titan standing over the breadth of the elementary school, crystal blue eyes glaring down at the three of you. Spiderman webs up first, spinning around her as he calls out to her. 

“God, lady. You should really put some clothes on. You’re flashing entire titty to a kid right now.” 

All you can do is look up in shock, the titan’s crystal blue eyes staring into yours. Your hold on Falco is nearly deathlike and you shaking Falco’s arms as hard as you can to signal him to follow you. 

You begin to pull him but feel a tug when Falco doesn’t follow. He’s crying hard - tears pouring out of his eyes as he looks down at his feet. 

“I can’t move- I-I’m scared, Y/N.” 

You reach down, pressing your hands firm against his shoulders as you squeeze. 

“This isn’t the time to be scared, Falco. You’re okay. Spiderman’s right there and he’s dealing with-” 

You look up to find Spiderman, trapped in the palm of the titan’s hand, a broken device in his hand and one splayed on the floor, not a few feet away from you. You leave Falco where he’s standing, scrambling over to inspect it. 

It’s small and rectangular - blue and red splayed all over the intricate design work. In the tiniest of handwritings, there’s a small piece of text in the corner. 

property of the spider gang bitch 

Spider Gang? That’s so fucking corny. 

You hear Spiderman yelling out at you, refocusing to your vision to him, where he’s still trapped in her hand. 

“Mind giving me my webslinger back, sweetheart?” 

“Uh- yeah. I-” 

Before you can toss it up to him, the female titan stomps straight on to the concrete, knocking you and all the nearby outposts to the ground. Your ankle is immediately trapped under the mailbox to your right, the webslinger still in your hand. 

You try your best to yank your leg out from the metal, but you can feel your ankle burning - the pressure on your leg making your chest writhe in pain. Falco runs over, his hands in your hair as his hot tears start hitting your cheeks. 

“Hey. Hey hey hey. Falco, right?” 

You both angle your head up, looking at Spiderman talking to the two of you. The titan’s still got him crushed in her hand, but she’s distracted by the sound of the police cars coming up the block. Falco’s taken a few steps forward, towards the stupid alien mutant whatever the fuck titan she is. 

“You’re a strong kid, right?” 

“Not really. I didn’t pass my physical test last week.” 

“Not strong in that way, kid. Strong in the head, the heart.” 

“Um. I don’t know, Spiderman. I’m kind of lame when it comes to stuff like this.” 

Eren racks his head. He just needs his fucking webslinger back so he can get you guys out of here. And not get arrested. And not break every bone in his body from this death grip this naked lady has on him. And to make sure you’re okay. 

“Kylo Ren. He was pretty lame when he started out too right? He had to go to the special Jedi school with Luke and kind of learn everything from the start.” 

Eren sees Falco’s eyes light up, his tears lightly subsiding as he finally meets his eyes up to look at Eren. Bingo. 

“Yeah.” 

“And then he became really, really cool because he just tried it out right?” 

“Yeah and then he became evil and got the Knights of Ren.” 

“Okay, kid. Maybe ignore that part.” 

He sees Falco laugh, the female titan squeezing him harder in his grasp as she looks around, the police helicopters, right on fucking cue, starting to surround the three of you. 

“Okay, Falco. I need you to be strong. Like Kylo Ren, right now. Your sister, she’s got my webslinger in her hand. I need you to get it and then toss it to me. Can you do that?” 

Eren watches Falco nod, turning back to grab his precious, precious web slinger and toss it up to him. He misses the first time. And then the second time. But on the third time, he aims just right, the magnetic latch sliding in and Eren webbing this stupid titan bitch right in the fucking eyes. 

He swings down, lifting the metal mailbox from your legs as he lifts you into your arms, carrying you bridal style. He looks down at you - sweat coating your forehead and your eyes blinking closed. Falco’s at his side watching expectantly, his hand in his hair. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get you to a hospital right away, okay?” 

He watches you nod in pain, crimson red blood running down the side of your leg. 

“Spiderman. Can I come too?” 

“Kid. That’s a stupid question. Climb on my back. We’ll take Y/N to the hospital, okay?” 

He swings away as the cops close in, the female titan encasing in steam as he swings away. He taps into his earpiece. 

“Someone watch what happens. See if she escapes through the steam somehow since she’ll definitely be back. And where’s the closest hospital?” 

“King Street, Eren. Pieck should be working.” 

“Got it, Armin. Thank you.” 

He swings as fast as he can, trying to ignore Falco’s death grip on his neck and your eyes fluttering closed as he swings into Pieck’s open window. 

A special edition to the Spider Gang (unofficially, of course) - Pieck is the best fucking asset in the world. A Nurse Practitioner he once saved from getting robbed, she’s now indebted to him entirely. And she’s also his Aunt Hange’s girlfriend - not that either of them know he’s Spiderman. 

Not that he would ever ask her for anything personal, he just brings injured civilians caught in his crossfire to her so he can avoid the whole - Are you Spiderman? Do the webs come out of your holes? Can you swing me to work later? 

He swings into her office, laying you flat on the gurney in the center of the room and setting Falco down on the couch nearby. 

As soon as he settles Falco into the chair, he feels his spider sense tingle and spreads his hand behind his neck, catching the syringe Pieck threw at him before it could hit him. He turns his back, smirking at Pieck through his mask. 

“Pieck-chan.” 

“I’m calling the police, SpiderFuck.” 

“Cmon. I saved your life, you know?” 

“That was one time. You’ve almost got me fired three times over.” 

“Cmon, cmon Pieck. This girl, I know her. Just help her out, yeah? She’s really sweet, y’know that?” 

He watches Pieck divert her eyes past him, focusing on you writhing on the gurney. She sighs as she smacks Eren on the side of the head, reaching forward to attend to your leg. 

“Get out of here, SpiderAss. They’ll be circling around the building any minute.” 

Eren runs up, tackling Pieck in a hug, before she can protest and swings out the window. 

-  

You haul your black boot up the door, knocking on the door. You can see “Zoe” inscribed into the little call box, ensuring that you did find the correct apartment from the directory. You can hear a loud rustling behind the door and the door swings open. You’re met with Hange, Eren’s aunt. 

“Hi. My name is Y/N. I attend Shiganshina High School. I’m a classmate of Eren’s, I was wondering if he was here.” 

“Pieck. Pieck! THERE’S A GIRL HERE TO SEE HIM.” 

Eren’s aunt drags you in by the wrists, taking the tin of brownies in your hand and setting it on the table, as they inspect you. Their eyes are glinting with excitement as they smile at you, teetering on their ankles as they talk. 

“Do you like Eren? Oh, isn’t he just so nerdy and sweet, I just love him. Do you love him?” 

A hand comes straight into Hange’s hair, yanking them back. You follow the line of vision, seeing that the hand belongs to Pieck. The nurse that Spiderman dropped you off to. Only more proof that you’re right. 

Pieck leans straight into Hange’s frame, rolling her eyes at Hange as she starts talking to you. 

“We were starting to worry about the kid. I thought he was impotent or something.” 

“Oh! Uh, no-” 

Hange leans over into your space, grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“How do you know he’s not impotent? Oh, you two better be having safe sex or I swear to god.” 

“No! Oh, no no, I swear it’s not-” 

Hange keeps rambling to themselves as they walk around the kitchen, yanking Pieck along with them. Pieck glances to your side, mouthing the words “he’s upstairs” as you shoot her a grateful smile and you start lugging your boot up the stairs. 

You knock on the door, voices muffled on the inside as you peak in. When you swing open the door, you find Connie, Eren, Jean, and Armin in a very strange position. The four of them are clearly playing Twister - Eren’s face near Jean’s ass and Connie’s hand right near Armin’s…dick. 

“Uh. Hi guys.” 

At the sound of your voice, they all quirk their heads towards you, so shocked at your presence that they all tumble on each other. You hear Hange screaming from the bottom of the stairs, her words making your cheeks turn red. 

“Eren Yeager. You better not be having sex with that girl in my house!” 

You watch Eren tangle out of the mess, rubbing the back of his neck as he screams back at Hange, slamming the door shut. He helps Armin and Jean up, before he turns back to you - his cheeks glowing pink. 

“Hi Eren.” 

“Hi Y/N. What are you doing here? Is your leg okay?” 

You hold out the card, embellished in your sparkly pink stationery and hold it out to him. You bought him a gift card - to Joe’s, the coffee shop near the highschool. You’d seen him bring a half empty cup to class a few times and figured it would be the best gift. 

You had to thank him. Because your leg put you out of commission for a week, you hadn’t been coming to school. And he sent you all the assignments (and the answer keys) while you were out. And made sure to tell all the clubs to keep their emails to themselves until you were back. And if you’re right, he’s the one who saved your life. 

“This is for you. Thank you - for the homework and the emails. It helped a lot.” 

You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, the skin soft and warm under your lips. Jean face plants on to the floor, Connie and Armin staring at you in shock. 

“Right. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you guys. You’re Connie, Armin, and Jean?” 

They all nod, awkwardly shaking their heads as they plant on to Eren’s futon, Eren joining them on the seat. You sit right on Eren’s bed, the sheets Jurassic Park themed, as you face them. 

Here goes. 

“I know your secret.” 

“We know yours.” 

Eren smacks Jean across the back of his head, signaling him to shut up. 

“I thought about it. Really hard when I was in the hospital. You see, I really didn’t have much to do.” 

You lay back on Eren’s bed, pin pointing each of them and what you discovered by the line they’re sitting in. Jean first. 

“You know, one of the biggest mysteries about Spiderman is how he manages to get to casualties and robberies so fast. They’re usually reported through the police department, the intercoms only going through the radio.” 

The four of them are twitching at your words, after you casually drop the word Spiderman specifically, as you continue. 

“There was a radio that went missing a few weeks ago. Police Officer Kirstein lost the intercom on his way home from his shift. It was never recovered.” 

Jean turns red at the implication, his knees shaking as he drops his eyes. You’re right. You’re right, you’re right, you’re right. Connie next. 

“And you know, Spiderman has a very cool suit. Blue and red, specially stitched and special fabric clothes. I’ve thought long and hard about who could have designed it, but really there’s only one good designer in New York. Lisa Braus.” 

You turn your eyes to Connie, whose awkwardly looking around the walls, at anywhere but you. 

“Lisa Braus is Sasha Braus’s mother. You know, I’ve heard she can be coerced really easily, she really loves her daughter. I’m sure if you, Connie, gave Sasha say - a promise of a lifetime of free lunches from your parents restaurant - she could have given in and gotten her mom to make the costume. No questions asked.” 

Connie wrings his hand around his neck, groaning as he leans back into the futon. Armin’s hands are splayed right across his thighs, surely rubbing the sweat off on his slacks. 

“And the web-slingers. Ingenious design, really. There’s only one person who beat me out at the Tech-A-Thon in ninth grade. And it was you, Armin. They have your name written all over it - the design, the metrics. Though, you’re getting kind of sloppy. From the few seconds I looked at it, I think you can pack more webs if you lay them diagonally against the hardware instead of vertically.” 

You watch the gears move in Armin’s head as he thinks over your suggestion, turning to Eren to shrug. And then you look at Eren, leaning his elbows on his knees as he looks at you. 

“And you. You’re Spiderman. That day, when you saved me and Falco. You told him to be strong, like Kylo Ren. But you don’t know Falco like that. All you know is what I’ve told you And there’s no way Spiderman could have known that - unless you were Spiderman.” 

He leans over, his green eyes glaring into yours. 

“That’s all a coincidence, Y/N. Maybe you hit your head when you fell on that mailbox.” 

You falter for a second. You can’t be wrong. You can’t be wrong because you’re sure of it. You’ve thought it over for the past few days and he has to be. He has to be Spiderman. 

“How do you know it was a mailbox? Stop lying, Eren. I know it’s you.” 

“No, you don’t-” 

Eren stands up and you join him, getting closer to him as you keep talking, trying to convince him that you know. 

“You-you took me to Pieck when I got hurt. And while Pieck is just a nurse and anyone would do it, you took me to her specifically. Because you know she’ll fix it. Not just because she’s a nurse who cares about healing people but if she tries to rat you out - you can tell her you’re Spiderman. She’ll defend you like no other because you’re basically her pseudo-kid.” 

“You’re making things up, Y/N.”

“And the earpiece. You said “got it, Armin” when you were carrying me to the hospital. I’ve looked and looked. Armin Arlert is the only Armin in Brooklyn. It’s a pretty unique name. And I know if you’re Spiderman and he’s probably the first person you told. You’ve been best friends forever and-

“Y/N. Seriously-

“No, Eren. Because Spiderman called me sweetheart! And I called you sweetheart when you called me bae and you told Pieck that you knew me and that I was a sweet girl when you thought I couldn’t hear you.” 

You place your hands on his shoulders, boring your eyes into yours as he looks at you. 

“Eren. You’re Spiderman. And I would never, ever tell anyone.” 

You watch as he drops his gaze, muttering under his breath. 

“Got me all figured out, don’t you sweetheart?” 

Eren settles back down on the couch, as Connie, Jean, and Armin start their protests. 

“Eren, you can’t just go around telling people you’re fucking Spiderman.”

“You’re a vigilante. Do you know that? Her dad is the fucking police captain who wants your head on a stick.” 

“Spider Gang is already way too big as it is. Your identity will get revealed if you keep being an idiot.” 

You clear your throat, the four of them craning their heads to look at you. You look down awkwardly at your hands as you sit back down on Eren’s bed, rustling with your keys in your pocket. 

“You guys told me a secret. I can tell you one too.” 

Jean leans forward, rolling his eyes at you.

“He just admitted he was Spiderman, sweetheart. I don’t think anything compares to that.” 

Eren brings his hand down in Jean’s hair and yanks hard. 

“Don’t call her that.” 

You yank your keys out, fumbling with them in your hands openly. 

“You guys know about “I Stand With Spiderman”?” 

Connie rolls his eyes, glaring at you. 

“Obviously. Shit’s a fucking revolution at this point.” 

“I started it. The pins and the spray art and telling everyone.” 

You watch the four of them go slack jawed, for what feels like the tenth time today, staring you down. Armin speaks first this time, standing up to run his hand through his hair. 

“You-you’re the Lions?” 

“Yeah. It’s a stupid name, but-” 

Jean cuts you off, nearly strangling you as he shakes your entire frame in his hands. 

“That’s fucking impossible. Your dad is a bigger pig than mine and there’s no way in hell his fucking daughter is the one who started the thing that protects Eren every time he’s out there.” 

“That’s just the point, Jean. I got mad at my dad. So I started it. I think Spiderman’s the best thing that happened in the community and I knew that people agreed with me. So I did what I knew how to do. Spray paint. Pins. The people.” 

Eren stands up, yanking Jean off to grab your hands and lock his fingers with yours. 

“The Lions?” 

You clear your throat, explaining. 

“Harry and Hermione are Gryffindors. And Gryffindors are lions.” 

You can feel your cheeks turn pink - from Eren staring at you so close and holding your hands and Armin smiling at the two of you in your peripheral vision. You hold your keys up, dangling them between yours and Eren’s face, your shiny little Lego Harry Potter key chain making Eren’s eyes light up. 

Eren lets go of your hands and starts rummaging through his drawers, looking for something. He pulls out a small black string. Her reaches up to push your loose hairs behind your ears, stringing the piece through your ear. 

He taps on his own ear, speaking into the mic. His voice vibrates through your, a beaming smile on his face. 

“Y/N. Welcome to Spider Gang.” 

“That’s a really corny nickname, Eren. Could you really not come up with anything better?” you laugh, smiling at him.

“Says the girl who named a fucking revolution after Harry Potter.” Jean speaks up, glaring at you as he talks. 

“Jean. Shut the fuck up.” 

“Sorry, Eren.” 

 - 

Eren’s swinging through the buildings, clutching the side of his thigh as he retreats back to his apartment. 

Stupid fucking female titan. He’s been encountering her here and there - a total of six times now and he still has yet to understand what she’s doing. 

She appears out of nowhere, in locations that have no thread of connection - the elementary school, the coffee shop on the block near the bodega, the botanical garden all the way out of Brooklyn. 

He can’t figure it out. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t talk. No matter how many times he insults her for being a naked pervert, she still doesn’t break. 

When he makes it back to his apartment, swinging into his room through the open window, he finds his spider team…down. Armin and Connie are sprawled on the ground, hair all messy and tiredness pressed on their faces as they pore over the new web-slinger designs. Jean’s on the computer, six empty cans of redbull on his desk as he pores over the footage, trying to figure out how she escaped. 

And you. You’re sprawled on Eren’s dinosaur sheets, using the DNA samples he gave you as a pillow, lightly drooling onto the results. He reaches down, lifting your head gently as he places it back down onto a real pillow, as you mumble on in your sleep. 

“Is she okay, Armin?” 

“Ah. She might be taking her Spider Gang duties a little bit too seriously than the rest of us. That and she’s more busy - she’s still doing all of her class president and internship stuff on top of this.” 

He sees you move in your sleep, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand, as you focus in on your surroundings. The second you see Eren, the gash in his thigh, you jump up from the bed, scooting over to examine the gash. 

“Eren. Are you okay? You’re okay, right? Because I think I might be on to something and you can get her next time. I-I think she goes to our school or maybe-” 

Eren presses his hand to your knee as you take the seat next to him, leaning over to look at the gash. 

“Guys. Can I talk to her alone please? And get my dinner from Pieck, there’s no way I can hide this from her.” 

Armin, Connie, and Jean close the door behind him, leaving you to help Eren strip out of his suit. You’re trying your best to be gentle - pausing every time he hisses and groans in pain, lightly pulling the fabric out of the gash on his thigh. 

After it’s off, you reach for the kit Jean stole from Pieck’s room, cleaning and bandaging the wound. You try your best to not focus on the fact that Eren’s just wears his boxers under the suit and he’s just wearing his boxers right now in front of you. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi Eren.” 

“You know, you don’t have to take your Spider Gang duties so seriously. We’re all trying to figure out who she is and the bulk of it doesn’t have to fall on you.” 

“Spider Gang is a stupid name. And yes, I do. They barely spend any time thinking about it - with Jean trying to push back on all the initiatives they’re putting into stop you and Connie and Armin trying to perfect your tech so you can last longer.” 

“I last just fine. I just mean…you’re busy. Take a break, I don’t like seeing you guys all so worn out.” 

You push hard on the wound on accident, Eren groaning in pain. 

“Sorry. But we don’t like seeing you hurt Eren. You’re literally bleeding onto your futon right now and that’s not exactly a fun thing to see either.” 

He tilts his head down, his eyes in front of yours. 

“Worried about me, sweetheart?” 

You feel your cheeks burn, placing your hand in his hair to move his head out of the way. You start placing the bandages over the mark, smoothing them out with your hands. 

“Yes, Eren. Sue me. You’re fighting a crazy, perverted naked lady everyday. Arrest me if it’s so criminal to worry about you.” 

Eren laughs as he places one of his hands around your face, angling your face up so you look at him. You’re glaring at him, which Eren only returns a soft smile to. 

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m Spiderman.” 

“Yes. You’re Spiderman. Not God, Eren. You can get hurt. And you just did. And she’s crazy and-

Eren presses his hands around your waist, pulling you in his lap to sit on him. You’re careful not to rest your legs against his wound, your arms secured around his neck and his around your waist. 

“Y/N. Are you scared of her?” 

You can feel the tears burning in your eyes at the question, your heart dropping in your chest. 

“Horrified, Eren. She-she knocked that mailbox onto my leg and had you in her hand and I just-I thought she was going to crush you and then Falco next. And I dream about it all the time, and it’s just- my leg still doesn’t feel the same and it hurts and-” 

Eren tangles one of his hands around your neck, laying your face flat against his neck as he rubs small circles into your back. You’re crying - wet tears falling onto his neck as you rack sobs into his neck. 

You’re not going to get hurt. You’re not going to get hurt because he’s Spiderman and he’s going to protect you. And there’s no point in him having any of this if you feel this way. 

“You were really brave that day, Y/N. You and Falco.” 

“Just Falco, Eren. You-you made him so brave, I feel like his confidence has been better lately and-” 

“Even if you were petrified, you were still brave regardless. I’ve seen it happen - people freeze up in shock, freak out when they’re faced with things like this. But here you are, still fighting it, in the way that you can. You’re brave, sweetheart.” 

You avoid the tingling in your chest at the nickname, his hands on yours, and his sweet, sweet voice in your ears. 

He’s going to find that fucking female titan if it’s the last thing he does. 

 - 

“Armin, what the fuck happened? Why did we just lose connection?” 

The four of you - Armin, Connie, Jean, and you - are currently locked in the computer lab, six hours after the school closed. You had planned it all out, set a trap for the Female Titan underneath the school, so that Eren could catch her once and for all. 

The problem? Eren just went underground. And he had been talking to you for the last twenty minutes. But you heard it, that loud, high-pitched feminine voice and then static in all four of your earpieces. 

Armin’s smacking on his computer, Jean clicking through all the footage. All of the camera’s are still up and running, all but one on static. You stop Jean in his stead, as Armin and Connie smack on the computer, trying to fix the ear pieces. 

“Wait, wait, Jean. Where is that?” 

“Girls locker room. The volleyball team was there last.” 

You lean over to Connie, opening his computer as you log into your accounts. Jean’s leaning over your chair, both of you hovering as you log into your administrative office account. 

“What gives, Y/N?” 

“Jean. The girl, female pervert whatever. She must have transformed in there and broke the camera. Whichever girl didn’t log in for practice today, since there’s no way that girl isn’t injured from the fight she had with Eren last night, has to be the girl we’re looking for. Attendance in class but not in practice.” 

Armin, Jean, and Connie lean over your neck as you log into the account, loading the nursing record for today. And then you find it. 

Annie Leonhart has requested a medical leave of absence for the week due to an extenuating injury. She may return to regular practice next week. 

Signed Pieck Finger, N.P. 

Armin all but falls out of his chair, quickly getting up to fix the computers. 

“Shit shit shit shit shit.” 

You grab his shoulder, basically strangling him as you ask. Because why the fuck is he so worried that Annie is the fucking female pervert? 

“What’s wrong, Armin? Why are you so panicked?” 

“Annie. She suspects that Eren is Spiderman. And she…she wants to know who he is for sure, she’s told me that before. And if she puts him into a corner, she’s going to expose him to the police.” 

You feel your throat run dry as the tears start working their way up to your eyes, burning hot. No. Because they’re going to arrest Eren. Maybe even kill him and- 

Connie drops his laptop straight onto the floor, his eyes weary as he looks up at the ceiling. 

“What now, Connie?” 

“Y/N. It-it’s Friday. Meaning, they’re resetting the plumbing for the weekend and-” 

Armin speaks up next, racking his hands through his hair. 

“Oh my god. The sink waters flooding in the tunnels. He’s done for.” 

You grab Armin by the collar, the anger seething in your chest. 

“Why is he done for? What’s wrong with the water, Armin?” 

“The webs. We haven’t perfected them yet and they dissolve in water. And it’s not a big deal because it’s not raining yet but-” 

Now you get it. 

“He’s down there with no defenses. And Annie’s going to get him any second. And tell everyone who he is.” 

Jean grabs you by the shoulders, shaking your head as he fixes your hair against your ears. 

“Think. Think, Y/N. You must know something about how to turn it off - you sit through all those administrative board meetings and talk to every fucking faculty member at this school because you’re a goody two shoes. You must know something.” 

And then you remember. The only way to turn off the water is to go down there, close off the pipes manually. 

You leave the three of them in the computer leg and sprint on your bad leg, down to where you know Eren’s waiting for you.  

 - 

Connie, Armin, and Jean find you an hour later. You’re in the tunnels, where they set their trap, with a huge gash on the side of your head and a very bruised and battered Eren in your hands. You’re crying hard, your hands soft on Eren’s hands trying to will him to wake up. 

Connie and Jean loop their arms around Eren’s, prying him out of your arms to lift him out of the tunnels. Armin helps you up, supporting your bad leg. 

“What happened, Y/N?” 

“I got down here, Tried turning off all the pipes manually. Eren was still trying his best, climbing around when I got most of the pipes off. She delt a few good blows but I mentioned that I knew she’s Annie and she kind of….ran off. She wasn’t really trying to…expose him or anything but I feel like she was trying to get the tech.” 

“You okay? I know she scares you and…” 

“Yeah. I just-we have to take Eren to Pieck. We can’t fix him on our own-” 

“No. No he wouldn’t want us to.” 

“He can’t want anything if he’s dead.” 

“He’s not dead.” 

“You-you don’t know that. He’s not invincible just because he’s Spiderman, he-he’s just Eren. And he can get hurt and I don’t want him to die and-” 

Armin wordlesly agrees to take Eren to Pieck, the five of you piling into Jean’s car. Eren’s next to you, still not awake with his head slackly leaned against your shoulders. 

When you reach the apartment, Connie, Jean, and Armin task themselves with bringing Eren in as you explain to Hange and Pieck. You knock on the door, teary eyed to Hange and Pieck responding, worry in their eyes at the blood leaking down the side of your face. 

Pieck reaches forward, lifting your face in her hands which you swat off. 

“P-Pieck. H-Hange. It’s Eren and he…he’s not okay. Please just help him without asking anything, I don’t want him to die on us.”

Connie and Jean drag Eren in, lifting him onto the couch as Hange racks back sobs. You go to Hange’s side, squishing them in an embrace as Pieck gets to work, cursing under her breath as she goes on. 

“Wake up, SpiderFuck. Of course, this dumbass bothering me for the past three months is our kid. I’m going to kill you, you son of a bitch when you wake up, you know that? Stupid SpiderMotherfucker, I hate you-” 

Pieck works around him, taking Hange from your arms as she leaves the two of you in the living room when she’s done. Connie, Jean, and Armin leave you with him - already working on figuring out where Annie went upstairs. 

You take Eren’s hand in yours, squeezing tight as you whisper to him. 

“Wake up. Wake up, Eren.” 

No response. 

“Come on. You can’t be serious. You-you’re Spiderman and you don’t get hurt and-” 

No response. 

“I….I can’t be brave without you, please be okay.” 

No fucking response. You lay your forehead flat against the table as the sobs rack through you, Eren’s uneven breaths continuing on the table. 

“Please, Eren. Come back to me.” 

You feel a hand at the top of your hair, pressing down to the length of your neck. You look up to find Eren, weakly smiling at you as he winces. You sit up immediately, tears still streaming down to your neck, as you cup his face in your hands. 

“Eren.” 

“Quit crying, sweetheart. I’m Spiderman.” 

You laugh through your sobs as you press yourself against his chest, hugging him as softly as you can. You can feel his hands on your back, jaggedly circlcing into the small of your back. 

“Where are we?” 

“Your house. Pieck fixed you up and-” 

He sits up, groaning as he glares at you.

“Don’t tell me you told them that I was-” 

“I had to, Eren. I thought you were dead and-” 

“I wasn’t dead. I’m Spiderman!”

“Spiderman can die, Eren. And you didn’t fucking wake up.” 

“I heal supernaturally fast. You should have given me a minute to come to.”  

“The fact that you needed Pieck’s medical attention to come to right now, four hours after the fact, tells me that you weren’t fucking okay, Eren! And they don’t care and-” 

“You think my aunt, Hange, who watched my parents fucking die in front of me doesn’t care that I risk my fucking life on the line everyday? They fucking care!” 

“It’s not a big deal, they just want you to be okay and-” 

“And what the fuck were you doing down in the tunnel? Don’t pretend like I don’t see that fucking gash on your pretty face and I’m just ignoring it right now.” 

You can feel the anger seething in your chest and you really, really want to smack Eren right about now. 

“We figured it out. Annie Leonhart, the girl from the soccer team, she’s the pervert titan. And she’s-she’s trying to expose you as Spiderman. Or maybe not, I don’t know. And the water tunnels were on and I know your webs dissolve in water and I just-” 

“You just what? Thought you’d run down them and turn them off?” 

“Yeah, asshole. For you.” 

“You know the best part of Spider Gang. You’re the team in the chair. Do you understand what that means? You keep your ass in the chair and away from shit like this!” 

“I can’t just sit by and do that.” 

“Why the fuck not?” 

“Because I’m not Connie or Armin or Jean. I’m not just your friend who can sit by and let you get hurt. You’re-you’re not just” 

“What am I then, huh?” 

“You’re the guy I love. I can’t just fucking watch you bleed out from a tunnel and pretend it’s okay, Eren.” 

You’re both panting, chests heaving from screaming so loudly. Eren closes the space between you, pressing his lips to yours as you melt under his touch. You can taste metal - surely from the cut on his lip - but you can also taste mint, definitely from the stupid pocket he made for Altoids in his suit. He’s smiling against your lips, leaning his weight on you as you rest your forehead against his.

“Guy you love, huh?” 

“Shut up. When did you become so cocky, Eren?” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, pushing your burning cheeks into his shoulder as he laughs against your ears. The next questions genuine, his voice wavering when he asks. 

“Do you only love me because I’m Spiderman, Y/N?” 

“No. I love Spiderman because he gives Eren the confidence to talk to me. You…you’ve always been so shy and stand-offish with me since we were kids, I…kind of thought you hated me. But Jean told me, you’re just really awkward.” 

“Remind me to kick Jean’s ass.” 

“And…I always liked you. You know, we really didn’t need pictures of each of the clubs. I already took those during club registration at the beginning of the year. I just wanted an excuse to be around you and I think that’s technically an abuse of power but-” 

He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours once again, leaning so hard on you that you both get knocked on the couch. You’re both laughing, smiling so hard that Hange and Pieck and the rest of Spider Gang comes down to find you two giggling on the couch. 

Now that Eren’s sentient, Hange yells at him for three things. One. Being Spiderman. Two. Being a dumbass and getting hurt. Three. Attempting to have sex with this girl on the couch. 

And then they ask if Eren should be taken to a vet, since he’s technically half spider. 

The five of you corner Annie later that week. And she confesses it all - that she didn’t know when this power happened, or what came over her, or even what’s going on. And that she doesn’t want to expose Spiderman, she wanted the technology. 

She wants to know what’s wrong with her. And she figured that if she knew who Spiderman was, if she could lure him out by stealing his tech, she can find the person who makes his tech and have them help her. 

Eren extends his hand first. Promising that Spider Gang (a name that she snorts at) promises to help her figure it out and control it if she promises to not wreck havoc or drop mailboxes on your leg again. And she explains that she has no control when it comes over her, that she really doesn’t want to hurt people. 

When Armin figures it out and when Annie can control it, she’s instated as the sixth member of SpiderGang. Eighth if you count Pieck and Hange. 

And she doesn’t scare you. It’s nice to have another girl on the team. Especially one who hates “Spider Gang” as much as you. And it’s sweet to watch Armin and Annie bustle around each other, working on perfecting the tech. 

And to watch Jean and Connie tease them. And to have Eren swing you around in New York and sneak into your bed every night and save lives all around the city. 

- 

Okay. Let’s do this one last time. 

My name is Eren Jeager. I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for the last six months, I’m the one and only Spiderman, equipped with a fully functional Spider Team. Officially dubbed, begrudingly, the Spider Gang. 

Connie and Jean, codenames C-Man and Horseface (since using real names got me exposed the last time) are my surveillance team. Surveying out my enemies, making sure the cops don’t get to me - they’re important reconnaissance for each mission. 

Armin and Annie, codenames Ocean Eyes and Pervert Lady (don’t ask). They’re my technical geniuses. Always redefining my tech, fixing up my webs to make them stronger, faster. There’s no Spiderman without Spidertech. 

And Y/N, codename Sweetheart. My girl in the chair. And the one in my heart too. Not only does she figure out motives/identities/locations for every villain and plan out every attack before I do it, but she’s the main reason Spiderman even exists. 

Why I fight so hard. 

I have to keep Brooklyn safe for my girl.

[demontonic]

Hayden Christensen - The first time

H.C x actor reader

In which you try to avoid him during training but it’s useless when Ewan puts you up against each other in a friendly match.

Word Count: 2099 words (que spiderman theme song. IM NOT JOKING THIS IS THE ACTUALLY COUNT)

You were new to the industry, you had only been in two movies thus far. The first one wasn’t big, it was just an indie film that horror movie nerds happened to like. From there you got picked for an audition for a bigger movie that would be put in a few theaters. However here, now, you’d never really expected such a huge change, you weren’t going to be playing a huge part. It was a flashback for the upcoming series Ahsoka, you were going to be a Jedi for a short time. They were doing another scene for order 66 in which Anakin goes against someone whom he’d become acquainted with during training. A battle was to be choreographed which meant you were going to be up against the actor who had single handedly started your acting career.

You were a huge Star Wars fan and without a doubt one of the kids who had lightsabers and a few Clone Wars coloring books. As you got older you looked into Anakin’s actor Hayden Christensen and grew to love the movies he’d done. Of course you thought he was hot, who wouldn’t love the nerd in Shattered Glass, or the punk in Life as a House? Sure he’s older now but that didn’t stop you from absolutely freezing up the second you walked into the training area. He’s significantly taller than you, that much you already knew but now it made you feel even more anxious. Interviews of him (which you of course obsessed over in your younger years) depicted him to be very nice, but you can’t always judge someone based on their interviews.

“Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself as you placed your hand to your cheek.

“Are you okay?” The trainer had questioned, a slight concern showing on her face. Hayden had also looked to you, the thin lightsaber prop swinging effortlessly to his side as he awaited your answer.

“Uh- Sorry I just got a… um- a headache is all.” You lied while your hands gripped onto the prop like it was the only thing grounding you.

“I have tylenol in my bag, or some water if you want?” Hayden’s hands gesture over to the black backpack that was leaned against the wall next to yours. Your throat ran dry as you opened your mouth to speak, before choking on your words and coughing… quite literally choking on your words.

“Yeah, the water should be fine.” Hayden walked over to his bag before pulling out two bottles and handing one to you. He stood there however as you took a small sip and placed it back down.

“Nervous?” He snickered lowly while he waited for you to collect yourself.

“Pfft… can you tell?” You questioned softly, looking up at his sparkling blue eyes. My god you’d dreamed about meeting him for practically half your life, but all you did was fumble. The casting crew never really gave you a lot of information, just that it was for upcoming Star Wars content and that they’d needed to fill a small jedi role. Nothing could’ve mentally prepared you to meet your living, breathing, wet dream.

“It’s just training right now, so there’s really no need to stress, we can all help you learn everything you’ll need to know.” His voice was so calm and endearing, maybe it was the daddy issues talking or the fact he is a dad, but it was so comforting.

Even three months into your training you’d distanced from Hayden as to not make a complete fool of yourself. He’s almost 40 at this point with a child you’d assume he was tired of the wild fans. Even so during training you’d often slip up while your eyes were trained on his swift movements. Sometimes you guys would get together and have little matches to see who could win. It was a random pick or whoever decided to challenge someone, and it was no different today. Everyone had finished training but the energy had been so vibrant that here you were on the cushioned floor in a circle. At this point it was no secret your character and Anakin were to have a final battle, but you had never gone against each other in these matches.

“Okay before we start, would anyone like to call someone out?” Rosario Dawson, Hayden’s childhood friend who’d been training for a separate project, questioned the small group.

“This isn’t a call out but I’d actually like to see Hayden vs Y/N without their choreography.” Ewan suggested while sitting on the blue mat cross legged, a childlike smile on his face. On one hand you were a shell of a human around Hayden, but with Ewan it was like he was your favorite uncle. Had you at some point in time found him incomprehensibly attractive? Yeah, but he’s the kind of nice that makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

“Oh come on, is that even fair?” You whined, alluding to the obvious experience points he had on you.

“Are you calling me old?” Hayden jokes lightly as he steps forward into the circle, the group collectively letting out a low ‘oooooooh’.

“I mean your character is the chosen one, I don’t know if my three months of training can compare.” In all honesty you had tried your hand occasionally at a lightsaber when you were younger, so you had a little bit more experience than you let on. The amount of times you’d watched the behind the scenes,their practicing and training helped you recognize his moves.

“I’ll go easy on you, how about that?” His arms were outstretched to his sides in a shrug. A smirk was playing on his lips as he stared at you expectantly.

“Easy? Okay Christensen I’ll fight you.” Competitive couldn’t even begin to describe the drive that suddenly pumped through your veins. The way his eyes zeroed in on you, and the familiar smirk you had only dreamed of seeing in person made your adrenaline kick in. All the information you’d ever retained while watching those extras, would finally be useful for more than proving a point in a dumb argument online.

“Let’s not forget who’s had more training.” Hayden said with a scoff as you both got into your beginning stances. Yours mimicking the form Obi-Wan took while fighting Grievous, Ewan didn’t miss it, how could he? He simply stood with his left foot pointing towards you, his right braced for a sprint, and his saber behind him ready for a strike. You were reading him like a billboard, he never strayed from the forms he was taught, but you were a fan with too much time so you had a few of your own moves.

“May the force be with you Master Skywalker.” You said before he charged, you dodged the first strike but he had already begun to recover from the miss. A huff came from his chest as he swung the flimsy pole back down, meeting yours with a loud clash. The group let out sounds of shock and excitement as he pushed you down to one knee, he was stronger than you. It was no secret as height wise he’s an entire foot taller than you, so you quickly rolled from your position in front of him. He stumbled forward slightly, then twisted around to meet your blows. One to the head, down to the legs, up to the arm, then back down to his torso since it would be an awkward position for him to hold. You were both fast, you’d spent so much time learning basic defense in case one of you made a mistake it was too easy. Stamina was probably the only way you’d win this, or so you thought.

“You’ve learned well, young one,” he tripped you up, while you were focused on his words he’d hit you with the same move Anakin used on count Dooku. “although you’re too focused on me,” your ‘saber’ swung upward to slash his torso, but with a small step back, he dropped the pole to his open palm.

“And not my hands.”

“Fuck.”

The cool, thin, dented metal was up against the side of your neck as your arms were still tilted up in your last strike. Heavy breaths left the both of you as your small ‘audience’ went silent. The sound of your pole hitting the mat, signaled your defeat and in true style you dropped to the floor. The room erupted with groans and yells of victory from those who bet on Hayden. A few seconds of lying on the floor Hayden walked over, standing above you holding out his hand.

“Come on loser.” His smile was so genuine it made your face blush softly as you rolled onto your back.

“I can’t, I’m dead, rigor mortis.” You mumble, letting your tongue hang out the side of your mouth. You felt two arms scoot under your back and knees, quickly feeling your body lifted into the air. A scream came out of your throat as your hand quickly gripped onto Hayden’s loose shirt. The group laughed as he basically tossed you up and down, pretending like he was going to drop you.

“I don’t know why you’re screaming! Dead people don’t scream!”

“Oh- OH MY- PLEASE! GOD PLEASE! OBI WAN PLEASE!” He’d even managed to flip you on your stomach, your fingertips almost meeting the ground before he flung you back up again. Sure it wasn’t a crazt high distance from his arms, but add that with his height it was terrifying enough.

“So uncivilized!” Ewan mocked in a bad Obi-Wan voice, Hayden finally held you against his chest as he laughed with the rest of the group. Ewan came over with Rosario, both of them cooing softly at your semi panicked state.

“Put the poor girl down already!”

“She’s as red as a tomato Hayden!”

He let you down to your feet, still holding onto you as you stumbled lightly. Your chest heaved as you rested your hands on your knees, completely oblivious to how you practically pushed against Hayden’s crotch. His hand came down to rest on your lower back, rubbing softly while you regained your breath.

“I’m-… I’ll kill you for that one day Christensen.” You said through heavy breaths before standing straight again. Hayden’s hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, sporting a smug smile as the group began to discuss the next match. Hayden pulled you off the far walls where your bags lay, you both sitting in front of each other while he pulled out water bottles. For a while you sat in silence, just leaning against the wall watching Rosario and Ewan go at it.

“Were you ever going to tell me about your tattoo?” Hayden questioned, his voice staying low in contrast with the yelling from the group. At first you almost didn’t know what he was talking about, but then your cheeks turned to a dark red. On your wrist was the japor snippet Anakin gave Padme when they first met, and under it read ‘Skywalker’ in Huttese. Usually it was covered by a scrunchie or bracelet, but it must’ve slipped your mind today.

“I wasn’t planning on it, it feels too embarrassing to show you.” You held your arm out to him, since he’d already seen it there was no use in hiding it now. His hand pulled your wrist closer as he traced it with his fingers.

“I always wanted to get a replica of the japor snippet but I never did. I think this is really cool Y/N, you don’t need to be so nervous around me all the time.” He said quietly as he set your arm down on your thigh. Hayden was nice, but you were feral, you still couldn’t grasp the fact you avoided him like a schoolgirl avoided her crush.

“I-… I am not! The job is just so… overwhelming you know?” Lies, you shook as bad as a chihuahua when you were alone with him, practicing lines, fighting, and in general.

“It’s been three months and you still get distracted by just staring at me mid-fight.” A chuckle resonated in his chest as you looked at your blushing face.

“Okay… I just didn’t want to look like some nerdy, obsessed fangirl, I didn’t know how well that would go over.” Holding the cool bottle against your face you let your hair shield your face from the older man.

“I think it’s cute.”

And for the first time, you felt like maybe the star would align, maybe you would have a chance with the man you’d worshipped during your teen years.

I need to be his controversially young girlfriend HIS BIRTHDAY IS THE DAY AFTER MINE idk i think its a sign or whatever🤞🏼 hope you liked this! feel free to make any requests! i might make a part two but idk yet

Masterlist

[stealthetrees]

I would first like to apologize for the short chapter 3 for my fic Incident Reports from the Coruscant Guard. I keep having ideas for much later chapters and feel the need to write them. Also I don’t know how to write action. Pester me about it and I will feel guilty for not writing and may finish it sooner.

Anyway here’s the chapter when the Corries got Fives. For context, just after the Guard faked Ashokas death (bc she was a wanted criminal anyway and now they can use her to con people) Fox decided to try and break into the evil looking building they sometimes see Palpatine go to bc he’s convinced it’s an evil fortress that could have valuable information about the war. He got electrocuted and yeeted out a 5 story window.

He squinted at the clone in the bed next to him. “Do I know you?”

He flinched at Fox’s raspy voice, and his hands fluttered nervously around the blankets as he avoided eye contact. “Uh, no I don’t think we’ve met.”

“You don’t look like one of mine,” said Fox, wondering what he could have missed while he was out. He tried to sit up but was met with sharp pain in his chest. The hiss of pain summoned a vindictive medic like magic.

“Electrocution and nearly broken ribs. As a medical professional I’d recommend not trying to break into an evil sith fortress again,” said Cherry smugly. Fox had always suspected his medics secretly fought over who got to deliver news like that to him.

Giving up, he flopped back down. “Did I miss anything big?”

“Some ARC figured out The Conspiracy but fumbled it so bad the long necks told the Jedi his ‘aggression inhibitor chip’ broke and they believed it,” Cherry rolled his eyes and used air quotes. “Dogma’s pretty psyched cause they knew each other before acquisitions, oh! And this is Tup, fresh out of a lab. Also one of Rex’s Idiots.”

Tup waved nervously. Fox tried to give an encouraging smile. “We’re glad to have you, Tup.”

The words only seemed to make him feel guilty, as he turned away again.

“His inhibitor chip went off and he killed a Jedi during a battle. It’s been removed and we did some brain scans just in case. No further anomalies have been found, but we’re keeping him for observation just in case. For your mental state if nothing else,” Cherry directed the last part at Tup. “No one here hates you for something out of your control.”

He looked back at Fox, “Thorn has your armor and Vixen is directing offworld operations. It’s been pretty calm so I wouldn’t feel bad about sedating you if you try to escape. Follow instructions and it’ll only be a day or two. Call if you need anything.”

Cherry swept out of the room before either of them could argue. Fox and Tup looked at each other with mutual understanding and contempt for medics.

The next few days had troopers coming in and out through the visiting hours. Dogma and some of the other Idiots came by several times in between missions to talk to Tup. The familiar faces went a long way to cheering him up. They dragged Fox into conversation as often as they could, possibly trying to acclimate Tup to the wildly different social structure that made up the Coruscant Guard.

The constant distractions helped time pass, despite being banned from caff and work. The medics seemed almost disappointed to clear Fox for light duties. Lucky came by to bring him his armor and laugh at how fast he got Tup to call him dad.

“I’ll be your security today, Havoc got drafted into a drug bust,” said Lucky cheerfully.

“And you don’t have anything better to do than follow around someone with a 50,000 credit bounty everyone is too afraid to touch?” Fox asked sarcastically.

“Nope!”

“Greeeaaaaaat.”

Fox got about two minutes of silence, which only got them onto a train before Lucky started yapping about Separatist droid factories and how the different production methods could best be crippled. He even shows Fox the spreadsheet he was working on.

Fox gave some suggestions and critiques as the train slowed to a stop at their station. The mass of bodies flowed out onto the platform and the two soldiers were swept along, detangling themselves to push out onto the street.

Lucky finally looked up from the data pad. “This isn’t the way to the Barracks,” he said, frowning.

“I need to make sure Palpatine doesn’t do anything rash after what happened with the ARC,” Fox explained. “And get some caff.”

“I’d be surprised if he doesn’t,” Lucky muttered. “Oh! I almost forgot! The date for Scipio was moved up to this Thursday, everything else is the same though.”

“That’s perfect timing,” Fox sighed in relief. “Once the system is lost and Palpatine takes control of the banks we wouldn’t need to be so careful with illegal transactions. Has Slicer changed his passwords recently?”

“He finally made a bot to do it every time his blood pressure gets too high,” Lucky laughed.

Fox burst out laughing as they rounded the corner and nearly ran face first into Captain Rex.

He was fully armored and tense but the sight of his little brother reassured Fox in a way he couldn’t explain. He knew logically he’d still be mad about Ashoka but that didn’t matter in the moment, Fox was just glad he was still alive.

Rex punched him in the face, knocking Fox off balance and he didn’t bother trying to find his footing.

“Yeah that’s fair,” Fox muttered, taking the time to enjoy the ground.

“Hi Captain,” said Lucky somewhere above him.

“Did you know about Fives?” Rex demanded.

Fox jumped up at that, “Fives? What happened to Fives?!?”

Lucky failed too many tests on Kamino and was going to be decommed but another battalion happened to be there and smuggled him out as a shiny. Fox took him in bc Coruscant is a better place for him than an active battlefield. The Guard adopted him as their baby brother and all contributed to finishing his training. They got him when he was almost 17 but Fox didn’t clear him for duty until he was 19 cause he’s protective like that. Bc everyone was so worried about Lucky, the kid got the most varied and in-depth training of any clone ever. He could thrive in any position, even a commander. He knows slicing, mechanics, field medicine, strategy, Quinlan Vos even helped teach him about undercover and investigation stuff. He all knows how to fight force users and carries a slug thrower.

I love Lucky dearly. He’s o happy and cheerful your first impression of him is a little kitten, until he gets into a fight and then he’s a honey badger on crack.

[unexpectedreylo]

So, It Wasn't Planned After All

https://x.com/RichEisenShow/status/1734703529552699725?s=20

While Adam Driver is making the rounds to promote "Ferrari," he drops by the Rich Eisen Show and when asked about Ben Solo during the True or False segment, Adam spills the tea.

He doesn't get asked much about Star Wars so this is the first time I think he's talked about his character arc since TROS was unleashed upon us 4 years ago. And he drops the bomb that the Ben Solo thing wasn't planned from the beginning. That's right, Bendemption happened late in the game. He says that JJ Abrams told him the idea was Vader In Reverse (starts out vulnerable, ends entrenched in the dark side) and he kept that concept in mind throughout the time he filmed the ST, until they changed it with the last film. Adam has alluded to the concept of Vader In Reverse before but this is the first time he's gone into greater detail about it, including the revelation that the decision to turn Kylo from the dark side came during the third film.

This shouldn't be surprising to anyone who read the Duel of the Fates script and it explains why Ben hardly says a word during his scenes on Exegol. Abrams and Co. conceived of Kylo Ren as an evil bastard whose destiny was to get eviller; killing Han Solo was meant to be what sent him down the path of no return. Then two things happened: TLJ and Driver's commitment to humanizing Kylo Ren. People loved Kylo and Rey together (hence Reylo exploding in popularity) and they fell in love with Adam. They empathized with Kylo. So they changed course with TROS, a little. Kylo returns to the light as Ben but he is quickly dispatched once the big battle is over. I believe Ben's death was for two reasons: one, they were less invested and focused in Ben's part of the story than we were and two, there was always the intent to end the Skywalker line so Star Wars could focus on new characters. Remember, Rey essentially turned Skywalker into a title that could be transferred to anyone.

That the story changed over the course of the trilogy isn't that big a deal. There was no Chosen One prophecy until the prequels. Leia wasn't Luke's sister until Lucas wrote ROTJ. Han wasn't guaranteed to get out of carbonite because nobody was sure if Harrison Ford was going to come back. Instead of a tyrannical, ruthless bastard like Lee Pace's emperor in Apple TV's Foundation show, Kylo Ren gave us quivering lips, teary eyes, and mooning over the heroine who is supposed to be his enemy. When Rian Johnson introduced the bond between Rey and Kylo, Abrams and Terrio explained it as a dyad and made it prominent in the film. The kiss got put in because Reylo was so popular. Okay, fine.

The problem was they never should have made the Jedi Killer from early drafts Han and Leia's only child. As an old Star Wars fan who saw every film since 1977 and followed the Skywalker clan for over 40 years, I didn't want to see Anakin Skywalker's grandson end up even more evil than he was. What a huge bummer that would've been, even worse than if Rey was killed off. (For the record, I hated the whole Darth Jacen thing so much in the legends books I stopped reading them.) Abrams and Terrio probably realized it was going to be a problem returning to the idea that Ben was too evil to save; TROS already comes off as a tragic ending rather than a happy, triumphant one. And it goes against the whole message of Star Wars. So it ends up being Vader 2.0 and fans hoping Ben would survive were disappointed. I wasn't fond of the idea of exile or something as Ben's fate prior to TROS, but now I think that probably would've been the best outcome. It would've left a lot of possibilities to explore in future SW stories without having to come up with a convoluted explanation for bringing him back.

As much as they fumbled the ball, I'm glad they at least spared us Evil Kylo 4 Ever and Adam's turn as Ben was great even without anything to say besides "Ow." Adam sounded a little disappointed to me but maybe I'm just reading into it too much. In any case he has also stated in recent interviews he would be open to returning to Star Wars, so I guess we can still be hopeful even if he doesn't appear in the upcoming film. (Just don't wait 30 years, okay?)

[lothcatthree]

Last Line Challenge

hiiii I was tagged again by @frostbitebakery @whiskygoldwings @insertmeaningfulusername and @anxiousotters thank you all lovely, talented people <3

this is as good of a time as any to introduce my OC, Roan! he's a jedi shadow that works closely with Quinlan and they're besties. he's about 5 years younger than Quinlan so he gets to be Quinlan's token adopted introvert

here is a wonderful art of him that my beloved @holly-bearie did for me because Holly is wonderful and talented and I forcedasked him to draw Roan for me <3

I wanted to do some order 66 angst, so here's a bit from a WIP in which Roan, Quinlan, and Fox are about to go on an undercover mission right when the order hits. implied established quinfox :)

also fuck it. two snippets. you're all getting angst today, I don't care that you ordered smut

under the cut so this post doesn't get too long:

“You fuckers,” Fox rages once more, his accent becoming slurred and eyes fighting to stay open as the sedative begins to take effect, “Good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers–” His jaw goes slack, the arm in Quinlan’s grasp relaxes and Fox says once more, “Follow orders.” The silence that falls over them is thick over the rush of blood and a heartbeat in Roan’s ears. Quinlan stares down at Fox, slowly releasing his arm. Like this, Fox looks like he could be sleeping. He’s completely still, his curls strewn over his eyes as his face melts into the floor.  Quinlan puts two fingers on Fox’s neck to verify his pulse is still thrumming healthily, then nods to himself when he’s satisfied with it. Before he removes his hand and before Roan speaks, Quinlan tenderly moves the hair out of Fox’s eyes and pushes it back. Roan’s heart clenches.

aannddddd

He flexes his fingers on Quinlan’s shoulder and reaches for him in the void. He fumbles through it with his signature that shakes like his hands, clumsy fingers searching until they finally wrap around something. When he exhales, pink drifts back to purple as the blue edges on a flame.  Roan opens his eyes and Quinlan finally blinks as he comes back to himself. When he does, Roan almost wishes he left him in the safety of the vacuum.  “Roan,” Quinlan gasps. He looks towards him with tear tracks on his skin that match Roan’s. His hand comes up to grip Roan’s on his shoulder like a lifeline. “She’s gone. They’re gone.” “I know,” Roan says because he doesn’t know what else to say. A thousand voices yank at his peripheral, but he swallows and attempts to push it into the Force. A few screams escape through the fracture.  “He–” Quinlan looks back at Fox’s limp body. “I know.”

OOPSIES dw they'll find roan's super not-very-secret boyfriend, rex and everything will work out... in due time..

no pressure tagging: @holly-bearie @vytels @loverboy-havocboy @halfwaytoknowhere @sithfox

@theproblemwithstardust @tatooinetourism @raphaerolo @wolveria @bilbosmom-belladonna

[princessbrunette]

i love your drabbles! what do you think of anakin's need to have his S/O scratch his back during sex? I imagine he'd cheekily be like "... get long stilleto nails ;) ;) ;)" when you're at the salon and later that night ask you to rake your nails down his back.

and then he's ask for you to do it HARDER.

and you'd complain like, "oh, ani, ani - i can't, i think my nail might actually break if i do it any harder..."

and he just moans that he'll buy you a new set if it does.

anakins not a bad listener.

but sometimes, he’s so distracted with his own thoughts about a mission, or drama around the temple that when you begin to ramble about your plans for the day… his mind kind of slips elsewhere. often staring off into the distance until you cup his cheek and refocus him. you don’t really mind most of the time though, you’re usually speaking your plans out loud just to use anakin as a human diary so that you don’t forget anything. however, at the mention of you going to the salon to get your nails done he perks up a little, looking you over with intrigue.

“can you get the sharp ones?” he interjects, making you trail off whatever you were saying to look at him in surprise. he didn’t know any of the terms of course, unable to differ from coffin shaped to almond if you asked him, but he knew what he did like, and why he liked them. when you don’t say anything, caught a little off guard he clarifies. “you know, the long ones? i like those ones a lot.”

you nod, a soft smile gracing your features as he stands from your couch, patting down his pockets in search of where he kept his credits. he didn’t have much money, the jedi being paid in pretty much dirt — but he liked to pay for things like your nails, which you figured was more for his self esteem, often muttering some kind of ‘what kind of man would i be if —’ line whenever you’d try and refuse him.

so you get stiletto nails from the salon upon his request, or as you like to refer to them, claws. you hadn’t gotten them done in this shape for a while, mainly because they were a bit of a nuisance — waking up having scratched yourself in the night or accidentally nicking yourself with them just trying to get dressed. they’d dull out and become more manageable after a week, but the first few days of having them they were at their sharpest.

you feel like a happy housewife running to show anakin your new nails funded by him when he arrives back through your door later that day, and he smirks in the most charming way as he takes your smaller hand, holding it up so he can get a good look. “very nice.” he praises, continuing on, but little did you know he liked it more than he was playing off, because he knew what they could do.

like clockwork, you end up on your back that evening, your own whines bouncing off the walls and exiting through the billowing curtains to your balcony. he looks like some kind of god, towering over you, ripped and smooth and it’s impossible to keep your hands off him as he grinds his dick up against your cervix making you howl.

“th’salright— you can scratch me.” he groans after you fumble out an apology for slicing his muscled back with your new nails. you’re reluctant, but figure he likes it from the way he moans when you do. his following “thats it.” spurs you on to continue, painting vibrant pink streaks down his skin that you’re sure will be visible the next morning when you wake up to him dozing in the early sun.

“ani, don’t wanna hurt you!” you whimper, clenching around him purely from the animalistic sounds he’s making, going to slide your hands away from his back. at the threat of removing your hands he all but wrestles them back into position desperately, burying his mouth into the crook of your neck so he can instruct you right in your ear. “baby please, c’mon, draw blood for me, why’d you think i like those nails so much, ‘uh?”

so you do, and he bleeds, and suddenly he’s having to slow his thrusts as to not bust right there and then before he’s given you the chance to get off. luckily for him, it doesn’t take long, because the way he moans for you, cursing and half slurring promises to pay for your next set if they break, you’re twitching around his length and mewling out through your orgasm.

[moxiebustion]

Anakin Skywalker was a great Jedi.

He was not a good Jedi. Not even remotely.

Same thing you say? No, not really.

It's a bit like the difference between being rich and being wealthy. They sound like they're the same thing, involving the same quantifier (money) but they're not.

Rich is when you have enough. Your job pays well, you own a nice house, a couple of cars, you and your family can save a nest egg and go on some nice holidays and stuff. Your kids have their college tuition paid, you can afford to support an elderly or disabled family member relatively well. Life is good.

But you still have to work. Your partner still has to work. Your kids, while they will be very well educated and have all the advantages, will still need to get a job to survive on their own. You make your money by the sweat of your labours - maybe more than you need, but it's still down to the work of your hands.

Wealthy? Wealthy is where you own such an enormous portfolio of properties, have such a collection of heirloom artefacts, have so many bloated trust funds that you could spend every single one of your living days do nothing and you'd still have enough money to live on and then some. So would your children. And your grandchildren.

The surgeon making six figures a year is rich. They guy that has the entire wing of the hospital the surgeon works in named after him is wealthy.

Which brings us back to Great Jedi versus Good Jedi. They sound the same, with the same quantifier (Jedi), but they're not.

Anakin Skywalker was a Great Jedi in the sense that his deeds would get written about in history books. Helped win a planet's freedom at nine. Mastered a saber at nineteen, in half the time any of his peers took. Apprenticed to the Order's premier negotiator. Was knighted after one-on-one combat with a Sith. Pilot, Warrior, Hero Without Fear - he talked the talk, he walked the walk. He was everything people thought a Jedi should be and was therefore a Great Jedi in the eyes on minds of the galaxy.

He was a complete failure at being a Good Jedi.

The smallest, weakest and most fumble fingered member of the creche was a better Good Jedi than he could even dream of being. The Archivist who had never passed a single saber test ever given to her was a better Good Jedi than him and all his prowess. The elderly old farmer who had spent their entire lives up to their neck in dirt and hadn't been involved in a single galactically vital peace treaty was a better Good Jedi than Anakin Skywalker could even begin to comprehend.

They all wanted it.

They wanted it.

They wanted to be Jedi.

That's not to say they never wanted other things; marriage, or children, or life outside of service. People want things. Even Jedi want things.

But they never wanted anything in the galaxy more than they wanted to be a Jedi. Being a Jedi was the one thing they were willing to give up everything else for. They understood that it was a big commitment, that it would ask a lot of them, and they looked at that choice with their eyes wide open, fully trained and educated onto what it would entail and said yes, this is what I want to be.

(And that's not unhealthy! That's not "repression". Is a priest or a nun repressed? Is an asexual or aromantic repressed? Is anyone who ever got a dream job that took them away from home, kin and country repressed, wrongheaded, brainwashed? Or have they looked at their options, have they been fully informed and educated on what the life they choose will mean for them and everyone around them and decided yes, this lifestyle, which is not like everyone else's, which may even separate me irrevocable from the mainstream, suits me. I don't need or want the rest of it as much as this. This is what I want).

Anakin Skywalker wanted to be a Jedi.

But he didn't want to be a Jedi more than he wanted anything else.

He could swing a lightsaber, he could quote esoteric tenets and philosophies, he could pilot a ship, he could perform a variety of Force techniques, he could more than hold his own in a fight.

None of these make a person a Good Jedi.

You have to want it. You have to want to be a Jedi, above all other things. The talent might make you Great but it's the wanting, the choice, that makes you Good. You have to look at it, all of it, clear eyed, and decide you want it.

And he... didn't.

He just lied and said he did. At first to himself.

And then, knowingly and willfully, to everyone else.

Until he wasn't even a Great Jedi anymore. He wasn't a Jedi at all.

And he still didn't get anything else he wanted either.

[wrencatte]

mini-fic! Cal and Merrin training, from Greez's POV. 1k words.

Cal and Merrin face off in a small clearing not far from the Mantis. She has a staff in hand, new and sturdy, just picked up from an outpost market, and Cal has…nothing. In fact, his lightsaber sits next to a nonchalant Cere, who’s scrolling through a holopad, seemingly unaware that Cal is about to get his ass kicked by an armed Nightsister.

Their resident Jedi Knight is a powerhouse, sure, and Greez is thankful every day he’s on their side, but without his lightsaber… Greez takes one look at the situation and decides he really don’t want to know.

He asks anyway.

“Training!” Cal says without opening his eyes. Greez isn’t going to question it. Not this time. Nope. Merrin watches Cal closely, one end of her staff buried in the soil, her hands folded on the other end so she can rest her cheek on the back of them. She waits patiently.

They all seem to be waiting for something. Even Greez, who still has no idea how this qualifies as ‘training.’ And Cere, who still doesn’t look up from her ‘pad, takes a serene sip of her drink. She’s probably using some freaky Force thing to sense what’s going on.

Cal looks like he’s meditating standing up. Deep, slow breaths. Calm expression. He keeps his hands lowered, like he’d used them to direct his breaths and then left them down on the exhale. Greez has seen Cal and Cere on early mornings, moving in sync with each other as they go through a fluid, tranquil set of movements without their lightsabers. It always started and ended with them directing their breaths like that.

Greez moves next to Cere, feeling like an intruder, but unable to stop watching.

The atmosphere is calm. Poised.

Then Cere says, “Go.”

Merrin is fast. She kicks her staff up and swings fiercely, devastating even without her magicks. She’s aiming straight for Cal’s head –

 – who doesn’t karkin’ move. Greez lurches, a shout on his lips, but Cere puts out a hand to stop him. Wait and see, she doesn’t say, but Greez knows that look.

Cal dodges without opening his eyes. Minimal movement, languid in a way Greez’s never seen before. Merrin’s eyes flash in determination and she’s quick to go in for another strike. He dodges again, body twisting, never taking more than a couple centimeters more than he needs to avoid her staff. Greez’s heart eventually calms as the two of them move in tandem. Like a dance. An elegant and mesmerizing back and forth.

It could almost be a performance. Something specially created for a dramatic stage.

Eventually, though, Cal’s calm expression starts to pinch. Mouth twisted into a grimace, sweat beads up on his forehead and darkens his training top. He falters. Dodges a second slower. Moves a little further out of the way than he was before.

Merrin swings her staff just has hard, just as fast as she has been, but Cal doesn’t dodge in time. He flinches and stumbles – and Merrin’s not stopping.

That determination slides into panic, Merrin’s eyes widening, but the momentum is too quick even for her. She tries to change the target from Cal’s head to somewhere safer, like his arm, because a broken arm is better than a broken skull, but she’s too fast and he’s fumbling and –

Just before the staff connects – it wasn’t going to make it to his arm, Greez realized with a sick horror – it flies out of Merrin’s grip into Cere’s hand. Holopad and drink forgotten, Cere twirls the staff in one hand before she plants the edge into the dirt. Greez hadn’t even seen her move. Hells.

Cal drops to the ground, heaving for breath. He groans out a heartfelt swear in some language Greez doesn’t recognize – Greez discovered early in their mission for the holocron that the kid knew way too many languages. Seriously, a kid that young, five years on a backwater planet like Bracca or not, shouldn’t know so many languages! Let alone all those karkin’ swears.

“Language,” Cere scolds mildly. Cal just groans again. “What happened?”

He props himself up on his elbows, hair in disarray and the side of his face speckled with dark soil. Merrin carefully pats the soil off the back of his head, her movements stiff. “It started to feel too easy, and I panicked,” he admits. “I started overthinking.”

“How do we fix it?”

“…Don’t do that?” Cal offers, grinning. Cere raises an eyebrow. He takes Merrin’s hand and allows her to heave him up. Greez doesn’t miss the way he subtly squeezes her hand in reassurance before he lets go. “I got complacent. If there was another opponent, I would’ve been taken out a lot sooner. It was only the Force and Merrin, and I freaked when I realized I didn’t know anything else.”

Cere nods. “In other words, you sank too deep. That’ll only be fixed with more practice. You can’t do that in the middle of real combat.”

Cal sighs gustily. “More practice,” he agrees as he holds out a hand and Merrin’s staff comes flying to smack into it. He twirls it with a flourish before presenting it in a low and dramatic bow to an amused Merrin just to make her smile. She does, helplessly charmed, before she quickly twists it into a smirk as she takes it back, a faint blush on her cheeks. Cere hides her own smile behind her hand.

“Next time, maybe don’t aim for his head?” Greez suggests.

Merrin looks disgusted by the very idea. “Then how will he learn? Training must prepare you for battle. If you do not fear for your life in training, then you will not fear for your life in true war. You will die.”

Cal laughs loudly over Greez’s sputtering. “Yeah, Greez, how will I learn? Merrin, aim for the head any time.”

“With pleasure. Someone must knock sense into you.”

Greez drags a hand down his face in despair. What did he get himself into?

[annoyinglyhardsong]

Codywan Week 2024: Day 7 Service Top

Author Note: Here is my prompt fill for Day 7 for @codywanweek. It's hella late but here it is! Not beta'd at all so sorry for any continuity issues. Enjoy some hopefully mushy emotional sex. As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome! Divider by @saradika-graphics, if you are looking for any cute graphics or dividers they have tons of amazing ones!

Warnings/Tags: NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, gay sex, consensual sex, bottom Obi-Wan, top Cody, kissing, flustered Obi-Wan.

They rarely ever had moments like this and Cody was going to make the most of it while he could. 

They were back on Coruscant with two weeks of leave as rest and relaxation. After a few drinks with the boys at 79’s the General had been eager to get home and have Cody all to himself, and Cody felt the same way.

Having private quarters on The Negotiator made it easier for late night cuddles and more intimate moments, but each time always felt rushed and it was a miracle if they weren’t interrupted. But with two weeks off with no responsibilities, they would be able to fully relax and enjoy each other in a way they hadn’t been able to in months. And Cody was just as eager for it as Obi-Wan. 

The general’s hands and lips were on him as soon as the door to Obi-Wan’s quarters in the temple closed behind them. One arm snaked up around Cody’s shoulders to pull the man closer, the other slipped to the back of his head to tangle in the short hair and curls that were found there, all the while Obi-Wan’s lips attacked Cody’s leaving the occasional nibble. 

Cody slipped both of his arms around the General’s waist drawing the older man flush against himself causing the other man to let out a small gasp. Cody took the opportunity to slide his tongue into the General’s mouth to deepen the kiss. 

Obi-Wan, eager to move things along, started fumbling with the clasps on the upper half of Cody’s armor. Discarding it as they awkwardly stumbled towards the bedroom. Finally freeing his Commander’s torso, Obi-Wan ran his hands over the planes of Cody’s chest and torso, appreciating the feel of the solid muscle even through the material of his upper blacks. 

Growing impatient, Cody scooped Obi-Wan up in his arms, the gingers legs coming to wrap around a trim waist, as one hand came down to cup a toned ass as sure legs finally carried them to the bedroom. 

Cody laid Obi-Wan gently down on the bed. His codpiece grinding lightly into his lover’s almost painfully hard dick, causing Obi-Wan to let out a wanton moan. Breaking their kiss, Cody disentangled himself from Obi-Wan’s limbs, and took a step back to finish shedding himself of his armor and blacks, admiring the panting Jedi still spread out across their bed. 

“I-,” he started a little breathlessly, dropping to his knees in front of the still fully clothed Jedi, “am going to absolutely worship you tonight.”

Obi-Wan had propped himself up on his elbows to stare at his lover, quirking an eyebrow in question. He had thought that based off of the initial tone the night had set that their lovemaking would be hard and fast and rough, but it seemed Cody had different ideas he was more than willing to see just where those ideas led. 

Cody gently divested Obi-Wan of both of his cherry-red boots before pressing kisses up his calf, to the inside of each knee, and up a thigh to the waistband of his trousers. He deftly undid the button on his pants and carefully brought them down Obi-Wan’s legs. Reveling in the newly bared skin before him, Cody smoothed his hands up each of Obi-Wan’s long legs, toned from years of training. He peppered kisses and gentle bites into the skin as he worked his way up. Paying special attention to the few freckles, beauty marks, and scars that littered his legs, and murmuring compliments and endearments into the other’s skin. 

Working his way up to Obi-Wan’s torso, Cody carefully undid his belt and obi before slipping the layers of tunics off of his shoulders and down his arms before gently tugging his undershirt over his head. Revealing slightly tanned, gorgeously freckled skin. 

Obi-Wan blushed under Cody’s gaze. He wasn’t usually one to be shy but the longer that the war went on the more scars he acquired and the less desirable he thought his body became.  It was old anxieties that he wouldn’t ever be enough for anyone manifesting themselves at the worst times and in the worst ways possible. 

Seeming to know what he was thinking without even having to say it, Cody brought a hand up to gently cup Obi-Wan’s face and tip his head to look at him again. 

“Gar’re bid mesh’la,” Cody whispered, bringing his head down to touch foreheads with his lover and press a kiss to his lips. He was not going to let Obi-Wan get self-conscious and spiral tonight. He was the most beautiful man Cody had ever seen and he was going to make sure Obi-Wan knew just how much he was loved. 

He shuffled both of them so they were in a more comfortable position on the bed, before kissing down to Obi-Wan’s neck and working at a sensitive spot there. “Relax mesh’la, I’m gonna take care of you tonight. I’ve got you,”  Cody murmured into his neck with a nip. 

Cody brought calloused hands to trace down Obi-Wan’s sides to guide powerful thighs around his waist. Cody could feel his cock butting against Obi-Wan’s and brought his hips down to gently grind and create delicious friction on their aching members. The motion combined with Cody’s relentless lips drew a string of moans from Obi-Wan. 

“Please Cody,” the ginger begged, arching up into Cody, “I need more please.” 

“Shh mesh’la, I’ve got you,” Cody soothed, drawing away from Obi-Wan’s lips and neck to retrieve the bottle of lube from the bedside table and apply some to his fingers. Taking his slick index finger he circled it around Obi-Wan’s entrance before pressing into his tight heat. He brought his other hand down to close loosely around his and Obi-Wan’s cocks and pump while he set to the task of opening Obi-Wan up. 

Slipping a second and then third finger into Obi-Wan had the ginger moaning wantonly. “I need you Cody, please, don’t make me wait.”

Cody carefully withdrew from Obi-Wan, earning a small whimper from a loss of contact, before adding more lube to his aching cock and pressing into Obi-Wan. 

“Mesh’la you feel so good,” Cody moaned. “Always take me so well.”

The praise had the ginger keening underneath Cody as he set a relaxed pace. Pulling out and thrusting back in deeply, “You’re so beautiful, and you sound so good like this.” 

They got lost in the motion and the feel of it all. Cody enjoying the tight heat of Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan relishing in the warm stretch that Cody’s hard length gave. 

Cody’s goal for this wasn’t just their standard love making. Cody wanted to watch Obi-Wan absolutely fall apart under and around him. He wanted Obi-Wan to know he was loved and maybe be a little sore the next day. Wanting a better angle Cody shifted Obi-Wan’s legs from around his waist to rest on his shoulders, pressing his knees up towards his chest, and wrapping his hands around Obi-Wan’s hips to pull the other man closer. “You feel absolutely amazing Obi,” Cody panted, thrusting into Obi-Wan. Bringing the knee by his left shoulder a little closer and pressing a gentle kiss to the skin there. 

On his next thrust in Obi-Wan could feel Cody’s cockhead brushing against a spot that had him keening. Between the compliments Cody kept murmuring to him and the pressure against his prostate Obi-Wan’s mind was blissfully blank, overcome with the pleasure and love radiating off of his cyare. 

Cody knew from the look on Obi-Wan’s face that he was getting close and that his plan was working. Obi-Wan was always a little bashful when it came to compliments and it was no surprise how well that worked in Cody’s favor in the bedroom. Knowing the other man was going to be getting close he decided to see just how affected his words could make the great Negotiator. 

“Are you feeling good love? It feels like it. The way you’re clenching around me is absolutely divine.” He said between thrusts, unrelenting on his lover’s prostate, Obi-Wan whimpering beneath him. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love doing this? I could worship you all day just like this. You’re so beautiful I would love to just have a day with you like this. See how many times I can get you to cum for me,” Cody panted, increasing the pace as he could feel Obi-Wan winding up getting ready to release, tendrils of Obi-Wan’s own emotions leaking out into the Force through his shields. It wouldn’t be long now, just the right push. 

“But you know what my favorite part is? Feeling you absolutely shatter around me. You project in the Force when you’re with me and its so addicting knowing just how good I make you feel.” Cody all but moaned, feeling Obi-Wan’s pleasure starting to peak, his own influenced by it and not far behind. 

“Cum for me Obi-Wan, let me feel you.” At that Obi-Wan tipped over the edge, arching up into Cody with a cry, limbs tensing as his cock shot ropes of cum between both of them. The Force opening up and Obi-Wan releasing all of the pleasure and emotions of lust and love out in a wave around Cody. The intensity of it nearly took Cody’s breath away and with a few more thrusts against Obi-Wan’s vice-like limbs, Cody was burying himself deep within Obi-Wan and moaning out his release. 

Coming down from their highs, Cody carefully moved Obi-Wan’s legs from his shoulders, and slid his softening member from Obi-Wan. The other man, hissing at the loss of contact. Giving Obi-Wan a quick peck on the lips, Cody disentangled himself from Obi-Wan to grab a wet cloth from the fresher and gently clean up his auburn haired love. 

Returning the cloth to the laundry basket, Cody arranged their limbs so they were comfortably cuddling. One of Cody’s arms to act as a pillow for Obi-Wan’s head, forehead resting against Cody’s chest, his other arm coming to wrap around Obi-Wan’s back to lightly rub up and down his back and occasionally card through the short hair at the back of his head, their legs entwined comfortably. Obi-Wan hummed contentedly and nuzzled further into Cody’s chest, using the Force to pull the blankets up over them tucking them into a cocoon of warmth and love. 

“I love you,”Cody murmured into Obi-Wan’s hair where his cheek was nuzzled. “Always.”

“I love you too,” Obi-Wan said back, fighting off sleep. “Always.”

Feeling Obi-Wan’s breaths even out and deepen into sleep, Cody felt himself start to relax as well. Content and ridiculously in love Cody drew his arms a little tighter around the man in front of him and drifted off to sleep.